Travels in Greece, Palestine, Egypt, and Barbary  

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"I make no attempt to follow the footsteps of people like Chardin, Tavernier, Chandler, Mungo Park, Humboldt."

--Travels in Greece, Palestine, Egypt, and Barbary (1811) by Chateaubriand

{{Template}} Itinéraire de Paris à Jérusalem (1811) is a travelogue by François-René de Chateaubriand. Its title literally translates as Itinerary from Paris to Jerusalem but its English translation by Frederic Shoberl of 1814 was titled Travels in Greece, Palestine, Egypt, and Barbary (During the Years 1806 and 1807).



If I were to assert that these Travels were not intended to see the light ; that I give them to the public with regret , and , as it were , in spite of of myself, I should tell the truth, and probably, nobody would believe me.

My tour was not undertaken with the intention of writing it ; I had a very different design , and this design I have accomplished in the Martyrs. I went I could not behold Sparta , Athens , Jein quest of images , and nothing more . I could not behold Sparta, Athens, Jerusalem, without making some reflections. Thoae reflections could not be in- troduced into the subjeet of an epopee; they were left in the journal which I icept of my tour, and it is these that I now submit to the public.

I must, therefoi*e, request the reader to consider this work rather as memoirs of a year of my life, than as a book of travels. I pretend not to tread in tbe steps of a Chardin, a Tavemier» a Chandlery a Mango Park, a Humboldt : or to be thoroughly acquainted with people, through whose country I have merely, passed. A moment is sufficient fur a landscape painter to sketch a tree, to take a view, to draw a ruin; but whole years are too short for the study of men and manners» aod Sat the. profound investigation of the arts and sciences.

1 am, nevertiieless,' itiiiy aware of xtie i*dspeet that U.due to tbe publie» and it would be wrong to imagine that I am here ushering into the world a work that has cost me no pains, no researches, no labour ; it will be seen, on the con- trary, that T have scrupulously fulfilled my duties as a writer. Had I done nothing but determine the site of Lacedxmon, discover a new tomb at Mycen», and ascertain the situation of the ports of Carthage, still I should deserve tbe gra- titude of travellers.

In a work of this nature, I have often been obliged to pass from the most se- rious reflections to the most familiar oirouoi stances : now indulging my reveries among the ruins of Greece, now returning to the cares incident to the traveller, my style has necessarily followed the train of my ideas» and the change in my situation. All readers, therefore, will not be pleased with the same passages; some will seek mv sentiments only, while others will prefer my adventures ; these will feel themselves obliged to me for the positive information I have communicated respecting a great number of objects ; those again will be tired of the observations on the arts, tbe study of monuments, and tbe historieal di- ns. For the rest, it is the roan, much more than the author, that will be

discovered throu^outj I am continually speaking of myself, and I spoke, as I thought, in seeurity, for I had no intention of publishing these Memoirs. Bat as I have nothing in my heai*t that I am ashamed to display to all the world, I , bave made no retrenchments from my original notes. The object which I have in view will be accomplished, if the reader perceives a perfect sincerity from the beginning of the work to the end. A traveller is a kind of histori- an ; it is his duty to give a faithful aeoount of what he bas seen or beard ; be ahcMild invent nothing, but then he must omit nothing ; and whatever n^ay be his private opinions, he should never suflTer them to bias him to such a degree as to suppress or to distort the troth.

  • Lei MartjfTB, ou le Triomphe, de la ReUgion Chrétienne, in S vo]s« 8Vo

publiabed^ by the author about two years ago.



Th« Tolmne here lalimitted totUe publie» is the latt performanee of ft nuiQ, irhoie worlu^ thoogh leas known in this e<mnti7 than tbeT desenre to be» have gained, at home, a greater share, both of applause and animadversion, than Uiose of, perhaps, any living writer. His MalOf or the Anwurt of T'tpo So- vageoin the Deoert, and a short extraot from his great work Genie du Chriê- tiimiomt, whieh appeared under the title of a Vemotutration of the Hxiêtence tf God, are the only part, of his writings that has hitherto been laid before the Knglish reader. Ju&o Martyro, ou le Triomphe tie la Relipon Chretietme^ whieh may be eonsidered as his master-pieee, yet remains wholly unknowa here; thoogh repeated editions of each of these performances evince the ce- lebrity whieh they Itave acquired in France.

It was the latter that furnished occasion for the present tour. When we be- hold an author, for the sake of a dose adherence to truth and nature, quitting his native land, and exposing himself in once classie, but now barbaroas ooub* tries, to every tpeoles of fatigue, hardahip, and danger, at the expense of his fortune and his nealth, mei^ that he may give a faithful portraiture of the scenes which he has chosen for a ww^ of lleflon ; It fs impossible to withhokl our admiration of the ardour and enthusiasm which alone could suggest the idea of such an enterprise, and oommunioate the fortitude and energy requiaite for its aecorapUshment

Snch, as we are informed hy M". de Chateaubriand himself, was the sole motive for these Travels, the journal of which, though not origin ally intended for publication, will, unless I am mistaken, excite a considerable degree of in- terest in various classes of readera. ' The scholar and the man of science will accompany bis steps, with feelings of mingled pleasure and pain, through some of the mnst renowned regions of antiquity : the Christian will follow him with devotion in his pilgrimage to the scenes hallowed by the presence and the mi- racles of the Divine Founder of his religion ; the artist will find studies ready sketched to his hand ; and the general reader will be delighted with the variety of information, the adventores, and the reflections, alternately sublime and pathetic, with which this volume is interspersed ; while a tinge of melancholy, which pervades all the works of this writer, a grandson of the illustrious Jn. de Maleoherbeo, and which may, doubtless, be ascribed to the domestic cala- mities that his early life was destined to experience from a sanguinary revolu- tion, will, assuredly, not diminish the interest arising from the perusal.

With respect to the translation, I shall merely observe, that I believe H will he found as free from imperfections as the very short time allowed for its exe«  eôtion will admit A tolerable oopious Index, which is not in the original, will» it is hoped, prove an acceptable addition.

F. SHOBERL. London, October S, 1811.



I SRiiLii divide this Introduction into two Memoirs ; in the first I shall take op the history of Sparta and Athens, at about the age of Augustus, and bring it down to (ihe present time. In the second I shall in- quire into the authenticity of the religious traditions relativ'e to Jerusalem.

Spon, Wheeler, FanelK, Chandler, and Lerot, have, it is truei treated of the fortunes of Greece in the mid- dle ages; but the picture drawn by those writers is far from being a finished one. They have contented them- selves with general facts, and not taken the trouble to disperthe confusion which pervades the history of the Byzantine empire: they were, moreover, ignorant of the existence of some travels in the Levant. While I avmilmyself of their labours, I shall endeavour to sup- ply their omissions.

Aa fo the history of Jérusalem, it is involved in no obscurity in the barbarous ages. We never lose sight of the holy'city. But when the pilgrims tell you, We repaired to the tomb of Jesus Christ ; we entered the grotto where the Redeemer of the* world sweated blood, &c.\' an incredulous reader might ima^^e that tbe pilgrims were misled by uncertain traditions. Now, this is the point which I purpose to discuss in the se* cond Memoir of this Introduction.


I noW proceed to the liistory of Sparta and Athens.

When the Romans began to make their appearance

in the East, Athens declared itself their enemy, and

B. G. sr. Sparta followed their , fortunes. Sylla burned the

Appian. Pirœus and Munjchia ; he plundered the citj of Ce-

crops, and made such a slaughter of its citisens, that» as Plutarch informs us, their blood filled the whole Ceramlcus, and ran out at the doors. ^

B. C. sr. In the ci?il wars of ^ome, the Athenians espoused

the cause of Pompey, which they looked upon as the cause of Liberty : the Lacedaemonians adhered to Cab* sar, who was too generous to reveoge himself on Athens, Sparta, fiedthful to the memory of Cxsar, fought

CtBs. de Bell. &t the battle of Philippi against «Brutus, who had pro-

eîvii Dion. miged the pillage of Lacedsmon to his soldiers, in case

eppian Plat . , r«. * . .

in Vit. Brut, they were victorious. The Athenians erected statues

b'. cl 4ii *^ Brutus, attached themselres to Anthony, and were

Plut in Ant punished by Augustus. Four years before the death

vill. Pat of that prince they revolted against him.

A. D. 10. Athens was free during the reign of Tiberius. Sparta

Sttct in Aug. pleaded at Rome, and lost a petty cause against the Mes-

Tit Uv. An. senians, formerly its slaves. The contested point was

^ the possession of the temple of Diana Limnatis, that

very Diana whose festival was the occasion of the Mes-

t senian wars.

De Sit Orb. If we suppose Strabo to have lived during the reign

1. 9. of Tiberius, the description of Sparta and Athens, by

that geographer, must refer to the time of which \ve

are now speaking.

A. D. 18. When Germanicus visited Athens, out of respect to

I ^ ^'^' K^ former glory, he devested himself of the insignia of

power, and was preceded only by a single lictor. A. D. 5Ç. Pomponius Mela wrote about the time of the erkipe-

De. Sit Orb. ^^^ Claudius. He merely mentions Athens in his de- scription of the aoast of Attica. A. D. 67. Nero visited Greece, but he went neither to Athens

Ne^"' '"^ nor to Lacedajmon.


Vespasian reduced Achaia to a Roman province, ^; ^ 79. and gave it a proconsul for its governor. Pliny, the elder, a favourite of Vespasian and Titus, wrote in the time of those princes, concerning various monaments of Greece.

Apollonius of Tyanœa, found the laws of Lycur- a. D. m. gus still in force at Lacedœmon during the reign of y^^*^^**' *" Domitian. Apoi. Thy

Nerva faroared the Athenians. The monuments of a. D. 97. Herodes Atticus, and the description of Pausanius, are y^' ^'^^ nearly of this period. ' <

Pliny, the younger, under Trajan, exhorts Maximus, a. D. lis. proconsul of Achaia, to gorem Athens and Greece ^.^'^'^ ^ ^ with equity. , • .

Adrian rebuilt the monuments of Athens, com- a. D. 134. pleted the temple of Jupiter Olympus, erected a new EUwb.^***^ city near the ancient one, and caused the arts, sciences, and letters to flourish once more in Greece.

Antonius and Marcns Aurelius loaded Athens with a. favours. The latter, in particular, was solicitous to re- C«pitoi, Dio. siore the Academy to its ancient splendour; he increased tBe number of the professors of philosophy, eloquence, and civil law, and fixed it at thirteen ; two platonic, two peripatelic, two stoic, two epicurean, two profes- sors of civil law, and one prefect of youth. Luclan, who ^ lived at that time, says, that Athens swarmed with long beards, mantles, sticks, and wallets.

The Folyhisior of Solinus appeared towards the

conclusion of this century. Solinus describes several A. D. 176.

of the monuments of Greece. He has not copied

Pliny, the naturalist, so closely as he has thought fit

to assert

Sevenis deprived Athens of part of its privileges, as ^- ^r}^

Hcrodian. a punishment for having declared m favour of Pescen- »part. l)ia

nius Niger.

Sparta having fallen into obscurity, while Athens A.D.214.

yet attracted the notice of the world, deserved the dis- «*'<~'****

graceful esteem of Caracalla, who had in his army a


battalion of Lacedemonians, and a guard of Spartans about his person. A.D.960. The Scythians having invaded Macedonia, in the

TrebeU. Zon. timeoflbe Emperor Gaiiienus, laid siege toThessaio- nica. The terrified Athenians rebuilt, in haste, the walls which Sf 11a had demolished. A. D. S61. Some years afterwards, the Heruli pillaged Sparta,

TrebeiU ^^ Corinth, and Argos. Athens was saved by the valour of one of its citizens, named Dexippus, equally re- nowned in the career of letters and of arms. ChaadL f rar. The archonship was abolished about this time, and the straiigoSj the inspector of the agorck^ or market, became the first magistrate of Athens. A. D. S69. During the reign of Claudius II. this city was taken

^^^ by the Croths; they would have burned the libraries,

but one of the barbarians opposed the deûgn : '^ Let us,'^ said he, "preserve the books which render the Greeks so easy a conquest, and extinguish in them the love of glory." Cleodemus, an Athenian, who had escaped the calamity of his country, collected some troops, attacked the Goths, killetl a great num- ber, and dispersed the rest, thus proving to the bar- barians that science is not incompatible with courage» A. D. 383. Athens speedily recovered from this disaster, for we

Libun. Or. gj^, j jj ^qq^ afterwards offering honours to Constantine, and receiving thanks from him. This prince confer- red on the governor of Attica the title of grand duke ; a tide which, being usurped by one family, at length became hereditary, and transformed the republic of Solon into a Gothic principality. Pita, bishop of " Athens, was present at the council of Nice. A. D. ^7, CoDstantius, the successor of Constantine, after 'the

EutiopesZoQ. decease of his brothers, Constantine and Gonstans, made a present of several islands to the city of Athens. A. D. 354. Julian, educated among the philosophers of the por-

Kp?ad Athen! ^^^^^ ^^^ ^^^ *!"'* Athens without shedding tears. Gre- Greg. c^r. gory, Cyril, Basil, and Chrysostom, imbibed their sa- Oper. Ap"^ ..cred eloquence in the birth-place of Demosthenes.

BibL Put.


Duriag the reign of Tbeodoems the Oreat, the A. D.^S77. Goths ravaged Epire aod Thessaly. They were pre- cbaadl. In* paring to pass into Greece, bat were prevented by ••"?• •■^-^ Theodore, general of the Achaians. Athens, out of gra- titude, erected a statue to her deliverer.

Honorius and Arcadius held the reigns of empire a. B 395* when Alaric penetrated into Greece. Zosimns re- ^°*- ***** ^' j

lates, that the conqueror, as he approached Athens, ^

perceived Minerva in a menacing attitude on the top of the citadel ; and Achilles standing before the ram- parts. Alaric, if we are to believe the same histo- rian, did not sack a city which was thns protected by heroes and by gods. But this story has «too much of the air of a fable. Synesius, who lived much nearer Syn. Ep. Op, t(^ the event than Zosimns, compares Athens, burned ®"*°* * **' by the Goths, to a victim consumed by the flames, and of which noUiing but the bones are left. The Jo- ckMidi.TrmT. piter of Phidias is supposed to have perished in this invasion of the barbarians.

Corinth, Argos, the cities of Arcadia, Elis, and La- eonia shared the same fate as Athens. " Sparta, so renowned," continues Zosimus, ** conid not be saved ; it was abandoned by its citizens, and betrayed by its chiefs, the base ministers of the unjust and dissolute tyrants who then governed the state."

Stilico, when he marched to drive Alaric out of the A. D. '395. Péloponnèse, completed the devastation of that unfor- tunate country.

Athenais, daughter of Leontius, the philosopher, A. D. m known by the name of Endocia, was bom at Athens, '^^'^ and became the wife of Tfaeodosins the yoonger.^

  • Histomnt have not paid attention to chronological order, and

htve mispli^eed the marriage of fiodooia, by making it anterior to the taking cif Athena by Alarie. Zonaras aays, that Eudoeia, d riven from home by her brothers, Valerias and Genesia.*, was obliged to seek refnge At Constantinople. Valerias and Genesius lived peace- ably in their native country, and Eudocia procured their elevation to dfgoitias of the empire. Is not all this history of the marriage and family of Eudofia, a proof that Athens was not so great a suf- ferer by the invasion of Afairio as Synesius assorts, and that Zosc» mns may be right, at least, in regard to the fact.


A. D. 430. While Leontius held the reigns of (he eastem eut-

B^r^ànda.!. P^) Genseric made a fresh incursion into Achats. 1. •. 5. ProcopiUs does not inform us how Sparta and AthoBs

fared in this new invasion. A. D. 5C7. The same historian describes, in his Secret Uisto- ' rj, the ravages of the barbarians in the foUowing terms: Since Justinian has governed the empire, Thrace, the Chersonesus, Greece, and the whoje country Ijing between Constantinople and the Gulf of Ionia, have been yearly ravaged by the Antes, the SclaTonians, and the Huns. More than two hundred thousand Romans have been kified or made prisoners by the barbarians in each invasion, and the countries which I have mentioned are become like the deserts of Scythia."

Justinian caused the walls of Athens to be repair*

ed, and towers to be built on the isthmus of Corinth.

In the list of towns embellished or fortified by this Edit. P™*^^> Procopius has not included Lacedœmon. It is

lib. 4. e. 8. remarked, that the emperors of the East had a Laconian,

or, according to the pronunciation then introduced, a

Tzaconian guard; the soldiers composing it were

armed with pikes, and wore a kind of cuirass, adorn-

A. D. 587. ^^ ^^^^ ^^^ figures of lions; they were dressed in

Cod. Carop. a short wide coat of woolltîn cloth, and had a hood

Seript. ^ i<> cover tbe> head. The commander of these men

was called Slratopedarcha.

The eastern empire having been divided into govern- ments, styled ThematOf Lacedien^on became the ap- panage of the brothers, or eldest sons of the empe- A. D. 537. ^^^* ^^^ princes of Sparta assumed the title of Des-* -^ots ; their wives were denominated Despœnes, and the government Despotship. The despot resided at Sparta or Corinth.*

Here commences the long silence of history, con- cerning the most celebrated regions of the universe.

' • Thi» title of despot it not, however, peculiar to Spart» ; and we find despots of the East, of Thesialy, 8ce. wliich produces ver)' great eonfuaion in liistorj.

il«TKdI)tfOTION. S

~ Spon and Chandler lose ûght of Athens for seven hun- dred years, " either," as Spon observes, " on ac- Spon. Vof . eoimt of the defectiveness of hktory, which is brief ^"^ *• and obscure in those ages, or because fortune granted it a long repose/' We may, however, discover some traces of Sparta and Athens during this Ipng interval.

Th«> first mention wc find of Athens is in Theo- Theopli. 1. 1. phylactus Simocattus, the historian of the Emperor Bji^Ser^ Mauritius. He speaks of the Muses " who shme at • Atiiens in their most superb dresses," which proves that about the year .590, Athens was still the abode of the Muses.

The anonymous geographer of Ravenna, â Gothic A. D. 650. writer, who probably lived in the seventh century, AnoT'l.* Hames Athens thrice in his Geography; a work of *« S* which we have as yet but an ill-executed abridgment by Galateus.

Under Michael III^ the Sclavonians overran A. D. 146. Greece. Theoctistus defeated and drove them to the p^p};, j^ extremity of the Péloponnèse. Two hordes of these Adm. Imp. people, the Ezerites and the Milinges, settled to the east and wcat of Tay^ctus, called at that lime Pen- a.B. H6. tadactyle. Notwithstanding what we are told by Con- stantine Porphyrogenitus, these Sclavonians were the ancestors of the Mainottes, who are not descended from the ancient Spartans, as some yet maintain, with- out knowing that this is but a ridiculous opinion broached by the last mentioned writer.*. It was doubtless these Sdavonians that changed the name of AmyclflB into that of Sclabochorion.

tTe read in Leo the Grammarian, that the inhabit- A. D. 9i5. ants of Greece, no longer able to endure the oppres- c^ l^ g sions of Chases, the son of Job and prefect of Achaia, sloned him in a church at Athens during the reign of Constantine VIL

Under Alexis Commenus, some time before the A. D. lotl.

iieo. Ajin. • The opinion of Paaw who makes the Mainc^ea the èeieend^ CeBm. lib. 7Î aata not of the Spartans, but of Laconians set at liberty byUiBLfi^ wans, is not grounded on any histoire probability. G



A. D. 1035. Ann. Comn. 1. li: e. 9.

A. 0. 1095. etseq. Ann, Gomiu Hb. 4w 5. kc filjetu.

A, DV liSO.

A. D. 1130, Vicet Mirt.

A. D. 1140. Nieet. Man, Comn. 1,9. e.l.

Ooroo. p. If.


f liner. Benj. TQa«L

CnlBitdeg, we find the Turks raTd^gffae Archipelago ami all the western coaets.

In an engagement betvreen the Pisan^ and ibe Greeks, a count, a native of the Péloponnèse^ dîstîii- guished himself by his valour about the yeaj* 1 085 ; ^o that this country had not yet received the name of the Morea.

Eph^ and Thessaly Were the theatre of the ifar» of Alexis Commenus, Robert and Bohemond ; and their history throws no light on thai of Greece, prop- . erly so called. The first crusaders eSho passed through Constantinople without penetrating into Achaia. But, during the reign of Manuel Comnehue, who succeeded Alexis, the kings of Sicily, the Vene- tians, the Pisans, and other western nations, invaded. Attica and the Péloponnèse. Roger I, king of Sici- ly, removed Athenian artisans, skilled ih the cultiva- tion of silk, to Falerma. It was about this time that Che Péloponnèse changed its name for that of ih% Morea ; at least 1 find the latter made use of by Nice^ tas, the historian. It is probable that as silk-worma began to multiply in the east» a more extensive cutti^ 'ration of the mulberry was found necessary. The Péloponnèse derived its new appellation from the tree which furnished it with a new source of wealtifi.

Roger made himself master of Corfu, Thebes, and Corinth, and had the bofdness, says Nicetas, to attack towns situated farther up thé country. But according to the historians of Venice, those republicans assteted the emperor of the East, defeated Roger and prevent- ed him from taking Corinth. If was on account of this service, that two centuries afterwards, they a8Ber^ ed a claim to Corinth and the Péloponnèse.

The travels of Benjamin of Tndela, in Gr^ce, must be placed about the year 1070. He visited Patran, Corinth and Thebes. In the latter city he found two thousand Jews engaged in the manufacture of silks and the dying of purple.

XBrTtaS&6TlQII. 1 1

Siistitiâss was ften bishop of TlieBsaionica. Le^ ters most consequently hare been still cultiyated with ^Ulicqass in their native land, since this Eustathius is the celebrated commentator on Homer.

The French, headed by Bomface marquis of Mont- A.». 1904. iferrat, and Baldwin count of Flanders, and the Vene- Bald ym»- tians under the conduct of Dandolo, drd^yc Alexis ^- ' from Constantinople, and re-placed Isaac Aogelus on 4Èhe thrope. It was not long before >hey seized the » erown for themselves. Baldwin obtained the empire jsnd the marquis of Montferrat was declared king of Thessalonica,

About this time a petty tyrant of the Morea, named A. D. I9U. figurp, a native of Ni^li di Romania, laid siege to Bald:'«. 8. Athens, but was repulsed by the archbishop Michael Chômâtes, brother to Nicetas, the liistoQan. This |i|rdate composed SL^poem^ in which he compared the Athens of Feiicles with the Athens of the twelfth cen- twy, Borne verses of this manuscript poem are yet tintant in the ImperiaJ Library at Paris*

Sometime .afterwards, Athena opened her gates to Nieét in itbç marquis of Montferrat, who conferred the investi- ^*^^ *" *' ture of the lordship of Thebes snd Athens on Oflio dé la {loche. Otho^s successors assumed the title of dukes of Athens and grand-sires of Thebes. Accord- ing to Nicetas, the marquis of Montferrat extended his conquests to the farthest extremity of the Morea, and made himself master of Argos and Corinth, but was Huable to reduce the castle of the latter city, defended by Leo Sgure^

While Bonifaee was following up his successes, a Vnie-Hard,*©. squall drove some more Frenchmen into Modon. Ducantlffist. Geoffrey de Ville Hardouin, who commanded them,and Conrt.lik i. was on his return from the Holy Land, joined the mar- quis de Montferrat, then engaged in the siege of NapoU, and bping well received by Boniface, undertook, with Wilham de Champlite, the conquest of the Morea, Their success was equal to their hopes; all the town» surrendered tp the two knights, except Lecedae-

in iNTKODuonoir.

mMf trliere rdgDed a tyrant named Leo Ohamare^ Nioet. in tUB. SooQ afterwardfl, the Morça was given np ixk file Venetians, to whom it was ceded by the terms of a general treaty, concluded at Constantinople, be- tween the crusaders. The Oenoese pirate, Leo Scik , G^"n* A ^^^*^i made himself master for a moment of Coroia l8t< de. and M odon, but was soon driven out of those places

Vcoet. i,y a,^ Venetians.

Du«n *f ^' William de Champlite assumed the title of prince of ^Hist. éoQit. Achaia. At his death, William de Ville Uardouio in- ' ^ herited the possessions of his friend, and became,

prince of Achaia and the Morea«  AD. 1214. The origin of the Ottoman empire dates from taut*' of the *bout the time of which we are treating. Solymaa Oth.Bmp.b.i. Shah, issued about the year 1214 ftx)m the deserts of the Oguelan Tartars, and advanced towards Asia Mi- nor, Demetrius Cantemir, who has given ns a j history of the Turks, from the original authors is f more worthy of credit than Paul Jdvius and the Greek writers, who often confound the Saracens with tho Turks,

The marcyoifl of Montferrat having been killed, hi» widow was declared regent of ihe kingdom of Tlies- salonica. Atliens, apparently weary of the dominion of Otho de la Roche, or his descendants, determined to submit to the Venetians ; but this design was frus- trated by Magaducius, tyrant of the Morea, so that this country had probably shaken off the yoke of Died. Ville llardouin, or of Venice. This new tyrant, Mag*-

Bcp. 1. 5. aducius, had under him other tyrants ; for besides Leo Sgure, already mentioned, we fiind one Stephen a fish- erman, Signorc di molli sUUi ncUa Mùrea, says Giaco- mo Diedo.

. Theodore Lascaris re-conquered part of the Morea from the Franks. The struggle between the Latin emperors of the East, and tlie Greek emperors who had retired into Asia, lasted fifty-seven years. Wil- Sam de Ville Hardouln, successor of GeofiGrey, had


beoosne. ptiliee of Achiua. He feU intone haade of A- B. issd. Michael Pateologus, the Greek emperor, who return- ub^if 3, 5. Constantinople in August, 1261. To regain hb ]^?îf^ liberty» William ceded to Michael the places which he Ub. s. poasessed in the Morea, and which he had conquered firom the Venetians and the petty princes who alter- nately started up and disappeared. These places were Monembasia, Maina, Hierace, and Misitra. Pachy- meres writes without reflecton, without astonishment, and almost without thought ; as if this Misitra, the in- 8ignifbcant4ordship of a French gentleman were not the heir of the renowned Lacedeemon. . We have not long since seen Lacedœmon making Us appearance under its ancient name, when it was governed by Leo Chamaret^s. l^IisitFa must there- fore Imve been for sometime contemponuy with Lace- daemon.

William ceded Anaplion and Argos also to the emperor Michael: but the country of Ciusteme re- Jnainedan object of dispute. William is the same

prince of the Morea mentioned by the Sire de Join-

jy St. Loom Du-

T^"®* change. An-

Lont TÎQt . • .«v*^* ••»•«« not.

Avec mainte armare dorée,

Celui qui prince est de la M orée.

Diedo calls liim William Ville, thus retrenching lialf Died. Stor. u;- »»«v«^ ^el. Rep. d«.

his name. Veo. lib. 6.

Pachymeres mentions about this period, a certain Pafih7m.Ub.e. Theodosius, a monk of Morea, ^^ sprung from the race of the princes of that country ^'^ We also find that one of the sisters of John, heir apparent to the throne of Constantinople, married Matthew de Valincourt"a Frenchman from the Morea."

Michael equipped a fleet, and retook the islands of A. D. 136S. Na^os, Paros, Ceos, Carystes, and Oreo ; at the same **/••• time he reduced Lacedœmon, a distinct place of course from Misitra, ceded to the emperor as part of the ransom of Ihe prince of Achaia. We find the La- ççdasinionians serring in Michael's fleet; they had, acr

41 iKTfteBlfCTZdN»

Paohym. 1. d. eording to ^e hietoriana, been tramforrod ttcaxt &l&k

\ own countr7 to Constantinople in coHaîdecatioii of

their valour*

A. D. 1969. Thfe emperor then made war on John DncM Sebfis^

achjm, 1. 4. ^^^.^^j^^^ ^jj^ y^bA rebelled against him. This Jqhn

Ducas was the natural son of Michael, despot of the

West The emperor beueged him in the town of

Duraezo. John found means to escape to Thebes,

where reigned a prince, Sire John, styled by Paehy^

meres grand-Bignior of Thebes, and who was perhaps

descended from Otho de la Roche. Thia Sire . Ji^hn

caused his brother William to marry the daughter of

John Ducas.

A. D; 1975. Six years after this, a prince '*of the illustiioiiai

Ptehjm. 1 5. fojniij of the princes of the Jllorea" was engaged in ^

contest with Veceus for the patriarchate of Conatanti-»


John, prince of Thebes, died, and left his brother- William his heir. In right of his wife, grand-dau^ter to the despot of the West, William ajso became prince* of part of the Morea ; for the despot of the West, had,, in apite of ih» Venetiatts and the prince of Achaia^ made himself master «f thst tee province. A. I». 129a. Andronicus, on the death of his father Michael^ Pachym. I IT. aggcended the throne of the East NicejAorus, despot of the West, and son of that Michael, the despot who • had conquered the Morea, followed the emperor Mi- chael to the tomb, learing a son and heir, Thomas, and a daughter, named Itamar. The latter married^ Philip, grandson of Charles^ king of Naples: she brought him for her portion, several towns.and a con- siderable extent of country. * It is therefore probable, that the Sicilians had then some possessions in the Morea. A. D. idOO. About this time 1 find a princess of Achaia, a Paebyma. It i^idow, and very far advanced in years, to whom Andronicus was desirous of marrying his son John, the despot This princess was perhaps the daughter, or even the relict of William, prince of Achaia, who, aa

Mrsonuctieiv. ». . ^^

irè hate s^en, was af war with Michael, the &tiier af Aâàeëiàem.'

Some years afterwards an earthquake ^ookModon A.B.iao^. tfid other towns of the Morea. ^*"*=^*- *' '^

- Athens then witnessed the arrival of new mastei-s a. D. isis. Itomthe West A body of Catalans, seeking their Paehym.Lil. fertânes under the conduct of Ximenes, Eoger and Berenger offered their services to the emperor of the Bast; b«t soon growing dissatisfied with Androni- ittt, tbey turned their arms agamstthe empire. They Pacif. N<]tifc. rtttaged Achaia and numbered Athens among their ^f^^i^ «pnt^uests. It is now, and not before, that we see F*n«l Athe*. Delves, a prince of the house of Arragon upon the Sjpoo! torn. 1. «irbne. History does not record whether he found CLna.foi.«. Ibe heirs of Otho de là Roche in possesdon of Attica andBœotia*

The invasion of Amurat, son of Orcan must be Cant HW. t£ placed under the same date': we know not with what Enip.ab.k itiecess it was attended.^

The emperors John Palœologus and John Cantacu- A. D. 1336.^ aenos determined to carry their arms into Achaia. n, 1[^ this they were invited by the bishop trf Corone and John Sidere, governor tSTsèVferaf towns. The grand- A, D. I34«. duke Apocauctts, who had revolted against the empe- 71. lor^ pillaged the Morea and laid it waste with fire and •word.

Reinière Acciajuoli, a Florentme, drove the Cata- A. Î). 1370. lans from Athens. He governed that city for some ^^y^ ^uc time, and having no le^ffmate heir», left it by his will ^^^^ (o the republic of Venice: but his natural son Anfho- Atlien. Attio. By, whom be had established in Thebes, took Athens |**^^"^ from the Venetians. Chandler.

Anthony, prince of Attica and Bœoto, was suceeedi- A. ^390, ad by one of bis relatives named Nerius, who was ex- ^^^^ wp-ait pelled from his dominions by his brother Anthony H, and never returned to his principality till 4he death of ihe Usurper.

  • Some traees of ^tlna ikvtmtfa we to be seen la Caotteitelpftttd,



A. D. 1390 to 1400.

HiitdeCheT. de Malt. La Guilietiere Laced. anc. et moderne.

iL1>. 1410.

Vbktt Crus. Turèo-Grttc. L2Gat1. lAeed. ane. 6t. moderne»

A: D. 1420.



Bajaset (hen struck terror lato Europe and Asia; he threatened to invade Greece ; but I nb where find that he reduced Athens, as Spon and Chandler assert They have besides confounded the order ot time in making Ûie arrival of the Catalans in Africa precede the supposed incursion of Bajazet.

Be this as it may, the consternadon with which this prince filled ^rope, produced one of the most singular events recorded in history, Theodore Pof- phyrogenitus, despot of Sparta, was brother to Andro- nicus and Manuel, successively emperors of Constan- tinople. Bajazet menaced the Morea with an inva- sion, and Theodore thinking himself unable to defend his principality offered to sell it to the knights of Rhodes. Philibert de Naillac, prior of Aquitaine and grand-master of Rhodes, purchased in the name of his Order, the dcspotahip of Sparta. He sent thither two French kni^ts, Raymond de Leytoure, prior of Toulouse, and Clie du Fossé, commander of St. Maixance, to take possession of the country of Ly- curgus. The treaty was broken off, because Bajazet, being obliged to cfiturB to Aaiav^ibAc« fell into the hands of Tamerlane. The two knights, who had al- ready established themselves at Corinth, delivered up tliat city, and Theodore paid back the money which he had received as the price of Laceds^mon.

Theodore's successor was another Theodore, bis nephew, and son of the emperor Emanuel. This ITioo- dore II, married an Italian lady of the house of Mala- testa. On account of this alliance the princes of that illustrious house assumed in the sequel, the title of dukes of Sparta.

Theodore left the principality of Laconia to his brother Constantine, surnamed Dragazes* ^his Con- stantine, who ascended the throne of Constantinople, was the lasf emperor of the East.

While he was yet only prince of Lacedœmon, Am- urat II, invaded the Morea, and made himself maater


•iRTAODUCVlOir. 17

of Atheni;: but that city soon returned under the do-

«IDkiion of Reioier AcciajuoH.

The empire of the East was now no more, and the A.D. 1444. , Cftotem.

last relics of Roman greatness were swept away Ma- Hist. Cnu.

bomet (I. had entered Constantinople. Greece, though ^^'i^^;^ threatened with impending slavery, was not yet bound Athen.Att. by those fetters which it speedily demanded of the del doe. ^ Ifussulmen. Francus, son of the second Anthony, ^'^tben. summoned Mahomet |1. to Athens, to dispossess the Chandl. widow of Nerius.^ Thé sultan, who otode these in- testine broils subservient to the increase of his power^ espoused the cause of Francus, and banbhed the %ddow of Nerhis to Megara. Francus caused her to be fvoisoned. This unfortunate princess had a young Bon, who, in bis turn, submitted bis complaints to Ma- bomet. The latter, an interested avenger of guilt, took Attica from Francus, and left him nothing but A. D. 1444«  lËœotia. It was in 1465 that Athens passed under the A. D. 1455. yoke ^f the barbarians. It is said that Mahomet seem- A. D. 14». ed enchanted with the city ; that he spared It from pfunder, and miwutoijr «xamkuMl the citideK He ex- empted the convent of Cyriani, seated on Mou/it Hy- mettus, from all tstxes, because the keys of Athens had been delivered to him by its abbot Some time after this, Francus Acciajnoli was put to death for conspi- ring against the sultan. •

Let us now inquire what wks the fate of Sparta, or A. D. 1400» rather of Misitra. I have related that it was govern- ^^^^ êd by Constantine, surnamed Dragases. This prince, L lo. Duoas. on his departure for Constantinople, to assume the San^w Ann. crown which he lost with bis life, divided the Morea '^^^' g^ " between his two brothers, Demetrius and Thomas ; 1. 1. Demetrius fixed his residence at Misitra, and Thomas at Corinth. The two brolihers went to war, and had recourse to Mahomet, the murderer of their family, and the destroyer of their empire. The Turks first drove Tbomas from Corinth. He fled to Rome. Ma- homet then went to Misitra, and prevailed on the

  • The time when Neriaa died /• not known.


18 L^TAODUX^inK.

A* a U6a goreriior» by a bribe, to surreader the citadel. Thit unfertuaate man had no sooner put himself in the bandi of the suUan, than he ordered him to be sawed through the middle. Demetrius was exiled to Adrianople, and his daughter became Mahomet's wife. The conqueror esteemed and feared this young princess too much not to make her the partner of his bed. A. p 1468. Three years after this eyent, Sigismond Malatesta, Laced, toe. prince of Rimini, laid siege to Misitra. He tçok the et mod. town, but b«ng unable to reduce the castle, he re-

turned to Italy. A. D. 1464. rphe Venetians made a descent at Pineus, in I4ft4,

TniT. surprised Athens, plundered the city, and relreated

with their booty to Eubœa. A. D. 1595; During the reign of Solyman I., they ravaged the 9^*^^^";' 1 . Morea, and took Coron, but were soon afterwards dri- Coron. Bew. ven out by the 1 urks.

A.D?68S They onc^ more conquered Athens, and alt the Avot sup fik. Morea, in 1688 ; the former tliey again lost almost im- • mediately,' but the latter they retained till 1715, when it returned under the dominion of the Museulmen. At A. D. 1770. the instigation of Catherine II. the wretched inhabitants de u Grèoe?^' of the Péloponnèse were induced to make a last and UBavailing effort in favour of liberty. I have abstained from intermixing the dates of tra- • vels in Greece with the historical events. I have men* tioned only those of Benjamin of Tudela ; bis ac- count is of such high antiquity, and gives us so Kttle information, that it may be comprised without incon- A« D. 1770. venience. Id the series of facts and annals. We now proceed to the chronology of travels and geographical works.

No sooner had Athens, the slave of the Mussulmen, disappeared in modem history, than she began to receive a new kind of illustration, more worthy of her ^ ancient renown. .When sfie ceased to be the patri-

mony of obscure princes, she resumed, as it were, her ancient empire, and summoned all the arts to her venerable ruins. As early as 1465, Francesco Giam*


betti made drawings of Bome of the momnnents of A. D.iM5. Athens. The manuscript of this architect was on Tel- Giambettu lam, and was preserved in the Barberini library at Rome* It contained, among other curious things, a Tiew of the Tower of the Winds at Athens, and an- other of the ruins of Lacedœmon, four or ûve miles from Misitra. On this suhject Spon observes, that Misitra does not stand >on the site of Sparta, as had been asserted by Guillet, after Sophianus, Niger, and . Ortellius; and he adds, I donsidet the manuscript of Giambetti as the more curious, because the drawings were talcen before the Turkd had made themselves masters of Greece, and laid in ruins several fine mo- numents, whiâi were then entire. The observation is just respecting the monuments, but îahe in regard to the dates: the Turks were masters of Greece in 1405* . In 1550, Nicholas Gerbel published, at Basle, his A. D. 1550. work, intituled. Pro Dedaralione Piclurœ sive De- ^«*^^'- smipHanis Qrœeiœ Sophianilibrisepiefn. This descrip- tion, exeeUent for the time, is clear, concise, and yet substantial* Gerbel says very little concerning an* cient Greece ; of modern Athens, he observes : Mneas Sylvius Athenas hodiè parvi oppiduli speciem gerere cKcit, oujiis munitissimam adhuc arcem Florentinus quidam MiAometi tradiderit, ut nimis vere Ovidhis dixerit : .

Quid Paadionia reitat, niai noihen Atheiyae } A.B, 1550,

O rernm humanarum miserabiles vices ! O. tragi- cam bumanœ protentis^ permutationem ; Civitas oiim muris, navalibus, sedificiis, armis, opibus, viris, pm*» dentift atque omni sapientiâ florentissima, in oppidu* lum sea potius vicum redacta est. Olim libera et sais legibus vivens ; nunc immanissimis bellois servi- tutis jugo obstrieta. Proftciscere Athenas, et pro magnificentissimis operibus videto rudera et lamenta, biles ruinas. Noli, noli nimium fidere viribus tpis .



A.D.155i. Dapinet

A. D. 1557. Laorenberg.

A.D.l5ri. Ortelliot.

A. D, 1578.

A.D. 1584. Cruiia% or Knoi..

sed io cam confidito qui dicit : Ego IlominuB Den» Tester."*

This apostrophe, of an aged and respectable scho- br, to the ruins of Athene» is highly impressive. We cannot cherish too much gratitude towards those who opened the way for as to the beauties of antiquity.

Dupinet asserted, that Athens, in his time, was but an insignificant pillage» exposed to the ravages of foxes and of wolves.

Laurenberg, in his description of Athens, emphati- cally excluras : FuU quondam Cbrœàayfuerunt Âlhenœ : nunc neque in Chrœeiâ dlhenœi neque in ipsa Qrœeiâ Grœcia est — *' There was a time when Greece, when Athens existed : now, neither is ther# an Athens in Greece, nor is Greece itself any longer to be found."

Ortellius, sumamed the Ptolemy of his time^ fur- nished some new information respecting Orepce, ia his Tkeairum Orbis Ttrrarum^ and in his S^nonima Oeographica, reprinted with the title of Thtsauruê Qeographicuê : but he erroneously confounds Sparta and Misitra* He also believed that nothing was left of Athens but a castle and a few cottages: nunc ca»w lee tanium supersunl quœdam.

Martin Crusius, professor of Greek and I^atln at the University of TUbingen, towards tlie conclusion

  • j&neat SylTins mji» that Atbeo% whoM Tvry ttroiig oitad«l

wasdeliTered by a oeiHin Florentine to Mahomet, now exhibits the appearanoe of a very iroaU town, lo that Ovid might hot too traly ezelftim: What, be8i<le the name,U left of Pandionian Athena!

    • O, the deplorable vicisntudei of human thiogt! O, the tragie

ehangeof human power! A eîtf onée renowned for its walls, bar» hours, buildings ; pre-eminent in armi» wealth, citizens, wisdom* and ererj speeies of learning, is now redueed to a pettj town, or rather a village. Formerly free, and Uving ander its own laws, now oppressed by the most eruel monsters, and bowed down by the yoke of slavery r Go to Athens, and instead of the most magnificent works, behold heaps of rubbish, and lamentable rains. Beware, be» ware of confiding too much in thine own ttrengthf bat put thy trust in Him who aayo» 1 am the Lord yoor God."


of the sixteenth century, made diligent înquirleB eon- eerning the state of the Péloponnèse and Attica. His eight books, intituled, Ttireo-Gfrœcta, f^ve an account of Greece from the year 1M4 lo the lime in which he wrote. The first book contains the political, and the , second the ecclesiastical history of that interesting country. The six others are composed of letters sent to different persons by modern Greeks. Two of these lettei^, containing some particulars relative to Athens, deserve to be known. The first is addressed, in 1 575» by Theodore Zygomalas, who styles himself protho- Zygomalaii notary of the great church of Constantinople, " to the learned Martin Crusius, professor of Greek tind Liatin Literature at the University of Tiibingcn, and very dear in Jesus Christ.

    • Being a native of Nauplia, a town of the Pélo-

ponnèse, not far from Athens, I have often been at that city. I have examined with care the objects which it contain&i the Areopagus, the Antique Academy, the -Lyceum of Aristotle, lastly, the Pantheon, This edi- fice is the most lofty, and surpasses all the others- in beauty. The exterior all round exhibits in sculpture the history of the Greeks and of the gods. Over the principal entrance, in particular, you observe horses which appear absolutely alive, so that you may fancy yon hear them neigh.* They are said to be the work of Praxiteles ; the soul and genius of the man have A. D. issi. been transferred to the stone. There are, in this place, several other things worthy of notice. I say nothing of the opposite hill, on which grow all kinds of herbs useful in medicine ;t a hill which I call the garden of Adonis. Neither do I say any thing conceroing the

  • ^foaacotuvw avÔ^oitiav eafita. This cipretsion I do not uq*

dentMid. . The Lntin version has : tanquamfrementeB in camem AifiRttnam. Spon, who tr&ntlates part of this passage, has adhered to the Latin rersion, whieh b jiut as obscure tome as the originaL He renders it : " w hieh seem to long for a repast of human flesh.'* I cannot admit this signification, whiohj to me, appears absurd, un- less Zygomalas means here to allude to the horses of Dioroed. , ^

t Probably Mount Hymettub

22 iNTBoyDucrioN.

A.0. 15S4. seremty of the air, (he excellence of thewatery ani) other advaotageB enjoyed by Athens; whence it hap- pens that its inhabitants, novr fallen into barbarism , still retain sotne remembrance of what they hare been. They may be known by the purity of their laagnage: like syrens, they charm all who hear them by the va- riety of their accents. But why need I say more of Athens I The animal, indeedihas perished, but the skin remains.'*

This letter abounds with errors, but it is Taluabie on account of its ancient date. Zygomalas made known the existence of the temple of Minenra, which was supposed to be destroyed, and which he wrongly denopiinates the Pantheon.

The second letter, written to Crusius, by Simeon Cabasilas, anativeof Acamama, furnishes some addi- tion to the information gireu by the prothonotary.

  • ^ Athens was formeriy composed of three parts, all

equally populous. At present, the first part, situated on an eminence, contains the citadel, and a temple dedicated to the Unknown God ; and is inhabited by Turks. Between this and the third is situated the second part, where the Christians liye together. After this second part comes the third, over which is the following inscription:


In this last portion is seen a palace, covered with large marbles, and supported by pillars^ Here ^on still find inhabited houses. The. whole city may be six or seven miles in circumference, and contains about twelve thousand inhabitants."

Four important things are to be remarked in this description. 1 . The Parthenon had been dedicated, by the Christians, to the Unknown God, mentioned by St. Paul. Spon unseasonably cavils with Quillet on the subject of.thb dedication : Deshayes has mention- ed it in hiv travels. 2. The temple of Jupiter Olym- pus, (the palace covered with marble,) or, at least, great


part of lif was standiDg in the time of Cabaeilas : no A. p. UU. other traveller has seen any thing of it but the rains. 5. Athens was then divided in the s|itne manner as it is stiH; bnt it contained twelve thousand inhabitants, and has now no more than eight thousand. Some in- habited iiouses were then to be seen near the temple of Jupiter Olympus : that part of the city is now de«  sorted. 4. Lastly, the gate, with the inscription, Tkis %9 Athens^ the ancient city of Theseus^ has stood till bur times. On the other side of this gate, next to HadrianopoDs, or Athena novœ^ we read :


Previously to the appearance of the work of Martin Bekm. Crusius, Belon had published, in 1 555, his ObservaHons on varioiu singular and remarkable things found in Oreeee. I have not quoted his work, because this learned botanist visited only the islands of th^ Archi- pelago, Mount Athos, and a small portion of Thrace and Macedonia.

D'Anville, in conlmentating upon Deshayes, has a. D. itsa. conferred celebrity on his work relative to Jerusalem; ^■^/«* but it is not generally .known that Deshayes is the first modem traveller who has given us any account of Greece, properly so called : his embassy to Palestine has eclipsed his journey to Athens. He visited that city between the years 1621 and 1630. The lovers of antiquity wilfnot be displeased tp find here the original passage of the first Travels^ Athens — for that appelUUon cannot be given to the letters of Zygoma- las and Cabasllas.

    • Fjrom Megara to Athens it is but a short stage,

which took us less time than we should have been walking two leagues: no garden in the midst of a wood of forest trees can afford greater pleasure to the eye than this read. You proceed through an exten- sivejilain, full of olive and orange trees, having the sea on the right, and hills on the left, whence spring so

24 IirTR0DÛCTt6N<

A. D. l€iS5. meny beanfiful streams, that Nature seems to hav«  taken pains to render this country so deii^htrul.

  • ' The city of Athens is situated on the declivity, and

in the vicinity of a rbck, imbedded in a plain, which is bounded by the sea on the south, and bf pleasant hilli that close it towards the north. It is not half so large as formerly, as may be seen from thé ruins, to which time has done much less injury than the barbarism of the nations who have so often pillaged and sacked ' this €ity« The ancient buildings, still standing, attest the magnificence of those who erected them ; for there is no want of marble, or of columns and pilasters. On the summit of the rock is tbe castle, which is still made use of by tbe Turks. Among yarlous ancient buildings is a temple as entire and as unimpaired by (he ravages of time as if but recently erected. Its arrangement and construction are admirable^ its figure is oval, and without, as well as within, it Is supported by three rows of marble columns decorated on their bases and capitals: behind each column there is a pilaster of corresponding style and proportion. The Christians of the country assert, that this is the very same structure which was dedicated to the Unknown God, and in which St. Paul preached : at present it is used as a mosque, and the Turks assemlïle there to pray. This city enjoys a very serene air, and the most malignant stars devest themselves of their baleful in- fluences when they turn towards this country. This may easily be perceived, both from its fertility, and from the marbles and stones which, during the long period that they have been exposed to the atmosphere, are not in the least worn or decayed. You may sleep out of doors bare-headed, without experiencing the smallest inconvenience ; in a ^ord^ thé air which yon breathe is so agreeable and so temperate, that you perceive à great difference on your departure. As to the inhabitants of the country, they are all Greeks, and are cruelly and barbarously treated by the Turks residing there, though their number Is but small


Inhere is & cadi, who administers justice, a aheriff, A. D. 1625. called soubachy, and some janizaries sent hither every three months by the Porte. All these officers received the Sieur Deshayes with great respect when he visited the place, and exempted him from all expenses^ at the cost of the grand sigidor.

" On leaving Athens you pass through the great plain which is full of olive-trees, and watered by sev- ei-al streams that increase its fertility. After pro- • «eeding for a fuU hour you reach the shore, where is i^ most excellent harbour, which was formerly defended by a chain. The people of the country call it the lion's Harbour, from a large lion of stone which ii «till to be seen there; but by the ancients it was denominated the harbour of Pirœus. It was at this place that the Athenians assembled their fleet and were accustomed to embark."

The ignorance of Deshayes' secretary, for it is not Deshayes himself who writes, is astonishing ; but we see what profound admiration was excited by the view of the monuments of Athens, when the finest of those monuments still existed in all its glory.

The establishment of French consuls in Attica pre^ French eon» ceded, by some years the visit of Deshayes. *" ^*

I conceived, at first, that Stockhove had been at A. D. 1630. Athens in 1630 ; but on comparing his text with that of Deshayes, I am convinced that this Flemish gen- tleman merely copied from the French ambassador.

Father Antonio Pacifico published, in 1636, at A. D. 1636. Venice, his Description of the Morea, a work without **** *^' method, in which Sparta is taken for Misitra.

A few years afterwards Greece witnessed the arri- A. D. 1645. ral of some of those missionaries who spread the SoMrie^ "' name, the glory, and the love of France over the whole face of the globe. The Jesuits of Paris settled at Athens about the year 1645, the Capuchins in 1658, and in 1669, father Simon purchased the Lantern of Demosthenes, which became the place of entertaia- itieHtfor strangers.




De Mon- ceaux.

A D 1679. Fath. Babin.

A. D. 1674. Ndntel and GaBand.

A. D. 1674. Goillet, or La GvOMèrt.

De McMieeanx visited Greece îd 1668, W«liAve an extract from his travels printed at the end of Bruyn's. fie has described antiquities, especlaily i/k the Morea, of which not a vestige is left De Mof^ ceanx travelled with l'Aiané by order of liOuis XIV.

The French missionaries whilst engaged in workK of charity, were not unmindfal of those pursuits which were calculated to reflect honour on tlieir countij* Father Babin, a Jesuit, published, in 1672, an AecêUfd iff ike present stale of the cUy of dthens, Spon waa tile editor of this work. Nothing so complete and sO ' circumstantial on the antiquities of Athens had yet appeared.

M. de Nointel, the French ambassador to the Porte, passed through Athens in 1674 ; he was accompanied by Gallandy the learned orientalist. He had drawings made of the basso relievos of the Parthenon. The origUiids have perished, and we think ourselvea extremely fortunate in still possessing tiie copies qf the maorqids de Nointel* None of these, . however, have 3ret been pubfiahed, except that which represents th/e pediment of the ten^le of Minerva.*

In 16T6, Gmilel, mdèr the assumed name of Le Gnilletière, published his Jlndenl and Modem Athens. This work, which is a mere romance, occasioned a violent quarrel among the antiquaries. Spon detected GuiUet's falsehoods: the latter was nettled, and wrote an attack in the form of a dialogue, on the Tra- vels of the physician of Lyons. Spon now determined not to spare his antagomst; he proved that Guillet or La Guillatiére had never set foot in Athens, that he fnd composed his liiapsody from memoirs procnred from the missionaries, and produced a list of ques- tions transmitted by Guillet to a capuchin of Fatras : nay, more, he gave a catalogue of one hundred and twelve errors, more or less gross, which had escaped the author of Andtnt and Modem Athens in his ro- mance.

  • In the atliu to the new edition «f the traVeb cf Anaeham.* '

ChdHet or La GuUletière is eonsequenlly entitled to a. D, lerf. )K> credit as a travelleF, but hk work, at the time of Mb publication, was not without a degree of merit Ouillet made use of the accounts which he obtùned iirom the fathers Simon and Barnabas, both of whom Were missionaries at Athens; and he mentions a mon- ument the Phtmori Um Diogems, which waa not ia existence in the time of Spon.

The travels of Spon and Wheeler, performed in a. D. 1676. ie75,andthe following year appeared in 1678. Erery ^^^^ reader is acquamted with the merits of this workj ' in which the arts and antiquities are handled with a critical skill before unknown. Spon's style is heavy and incorrect; but it possesses the candour and the îease which characterize the publications of thirt day.

The earl of Winchelsea, ambassador from the A. D. 1676. eourt of London, also visited Athens in 1676, and Winohcbca. bad several fragments of sculpture Conveyed to Eng- land.

WMle the general attention was thus directed to Attica, Laconia was neglected. Quillet encouraged A. B. 1676. by the sale of his first imposture, pYoduced, in 1676, Guluetiére. léè Andent and Moékm Lacëdtemon. Medrsins had published his different treatises, de Paptdù AtHem, de Testis Qrœeorum^ &cc. &cc.; and thus furnished a stock of materials ready prepared for any writ^ who chose 'to troat of Greece. Guillet's second work is full of the most egregilous blunders on Uie locality of Sparta. The author insil^ts that M isitra is Lacedœmon, and it was be who first gained credit for that egregious error. ^* Nevertheless," says Spon, " Misitra does not stand on the site of Sparta, as I know inmi M. Giraod, Mr. Vernon, ond others."

Giraud had been the French consul at Athens for Gimud. rightecn years when Spon travelled in Greece. He .mderstood the Turkish and Greek languages as well aa the vulgar Greek. He had begun a description of the Morea^ but as he afterwards entered into the ser<>




4. p. 1S87.


A. D. 1688. Corooetti.

TM^e of Oreat Britain, his manuscript probably feU into the iiandâ of his last employers.

Vernon, an English traveller^ has left nothing biit*a ^ letter printed in the Philosophical Transactions for 1676. He gives a rapid sketch of hi^ travels in Greece. " Sparta," says he, is a desert place : Misi- tra which is four miles off, is inhabited. You find at ëparta almost all the walls of the towers and the foon- dations of the temples, with many columns demolish- ed, as well as their capitals. A theatre is yet stand-^ ing, perfect and entire. It was formerly five miles in circumference, and is situated about a quarter of a mile from the river Eurotas.'-

It should be observed, that Guillet, in the preface to his last work, mentions several manuscript memoirs on Lacedaemon. ^^ The least defective,*' says he aire in the possession of M. Saint Chalier, secretary to the French embassy in Piedmont" '

We have now arrived at another epoch in ihe his- tory of the city of Athens. The travellers whom we have hitherto quoted, beheld some of the most beau-' tiful monuments of Pericles in all their integrity. Pocoke, Chandler, and Licroi, admired them only in their ruins. In 1687, while Louis XIV was erecting the colonade of the Louvre, the Venetians were' de- molishing the temple of Minerva. I shall speak here- after of this deplorable event, a consequence of the victories of Koningsmark and Morosini.

In this same year, 1^87, appeared at Venice, the Notizia del Ducato d' Atene by Pietro Pacifico, a small . work which diplays no marks of taste or pains.

Father Goronelly, in his Geographical Description of the Morea reconquered by the VeneUanSy has shown erudition ; but he furnishes no new information, and. bis quotations and hb maps should not be implicitly relied on. The petty military transactions extolled by Coronelli, form a striking contrast with the places Which are the theatre of them. Among the heroes of this conquest, we remark, however, a prince àf Tu- .


penne, \v)io fongfat near Pylos, says Coronelli, with the intrepidity natural to all the members of his house. Cforonelli confounds Sparta with Misitra. ' The Âtene Mica of Fanelli takes up the history of ^^^ Athens from its origin, and brings it down to the period at which the author wrote. His work is of little importance as far as regards antiquities ; but it con- tains curions particulars of the siege of Athens by the YenetlanB in 1687, and a plan of that city, of which Chandler seeins to hare availed himself.

Paul Lucas enjoys a high reputation among the A. D. iroi. dass of fTETeUers, and I am astonished at it : not but * ^""^ that he amuses us with his fiibles ; the battles which he filets single-handed against fifty robbers — ^the pro- digiouB bones which he meets with at every step— the cities of giants which he discovers — the three or four thousand pyramids which he finds on a public road, and which nobody besides himself ever^saw, are diverting stories enough ; but then he mangles all the inscriptions that he copies, his plagiarisms are inces- sant, and his description of Jerusalem is copied ver- batim from that of Deshayes. Lastly, he speaks of Athens as if he had never been there, and what he says of that city is one of the most glaring falsehoods that ever traveller had the impudence to publish.

  • ^ Its ruins," says, he, '^ are, as may be supposed, the

nnist renuirkable part of Athens. In fhct, thou^ the houses are very numerous in that cify, and the climate delicious, there are scarcely any inhabitants. Here you find an accommodation that^ou meet with no where else ; whoever pleases may live here with- out paying any rent, the houses beiiig given away for nothing. For the rest, if this celebrated city surpasses all those of antiquity^ in the number of monuments which it has consecrated to posterity ; it may likewise be asserted, that the excellence of its climate has pre- )»erved them in l>etter condition than those of any other place in the world, at least of all such as I ha¥e jMCiL \t would seem a? if ^sewhere people had

A. D. 1704, iOchn Might $11 fhe work of deetruction : and^aV fiat^ in almost erery eouDtry, occasioned ravages wfaich^ while they have rained the inhabitants, hare at tiie. same time disfigured all the monuments of thdr better di^a. Athens alone, either accidentally, or from that respect whi^h must necessarily be commanded by «  etty, once the seat of tiie sciences, and to which th^ whole world is under obligation — Athens, I say, was alone spared in the nnitersal destruction. In every part of it yon meet with marblea of astomshlng beauty and magratnde; they were proftwely intio- dueed ; and at every step you discover ooknuiB of grtf* nite and of jasper."

Athens is very populofus; houses «re not given away there, neither are columns of granite and jaspet to be met with at every step : in a word, seventeen jeén prior to 1 704, the monnmente of that celebrated city had been demolished by the Venetiana. Th^ most singular circumstance is, that we were alreadEy hi possession of M. dé NointePs drawings and Spon^ fmvels, when Paul Lucas printed tUa aeoonnt, worttjr of a pla«^e in tiie Arabian Nig^ta. A. D. tria. The narrative of the travels of thé Sieqr Pettegrin^ ^^'^'S™*' in the kingdom ofMorea,ifl dated 1718. Tbe author seems to have been a man of little edueatiott and atSl less science. His paltry pamphlet of one hundred and eighty-tw» pages is a coQection of anecdotes of giUantry, songs and wvetehad poetry. The Venetiana had remained masters of the Morea from 1685 ; the^ lost it in 1715. Pellegrin has aketdied tbe history of this last conquest of the Torfcs, which ia the onlj interesliBg part ci hia work* ▲. D. I5t8. The abbé Fonrmont w^nt to the Levant, by order f oiirmont Qf Louis XY , in quest of inscriptions and mannseripta» i* shall have oeeaaion to mention in the preseiit work some of thediseoveries made at Sparta by that learned antiquaiy. His travela have remained in mamir script, and only some fragments of them are known; Qieir piibtication wonld be hig^y dqaimble aa w«|k»»>


I atohiilg complete reipecting the the Pelepoimese.

Pocoke Tiait^sd Athens on his return from Egypt A. I>. ifsg. Be has described the monuments of Attica with that ^^'^^^^ accuracy' which communicates a knowledge of the arts» but excites no enthusiasm for them.

Woody Oawkins, and Bouverie were just then A. D. I7ia asaking their literary tour in honour of Homer. kini^and Baa"

The first plcteresque tour of Greece was that of ^^ Leroi. Chandler accuses the French artist of a vio* Leroi. lation of truth in some of his drawings; and I have myself rensarked in them superfluous ornaments. Le*» roi's sections and^plans have not the scrupulous fide» K^ of Stnart'a; but «al^i^ it altogether, Us work is a monument honourable to France. Leroi was at LacedflBmon, which he clearly distingni^es from Ifis* lira, and where he recc^aed the theatre aad the

I know not,if thejRiilit«Qf«ftften« by Robert Bayc», a. D. I7li9. be not an EngMsh teanslation of Leroi's book with ^y^* aew engraTings of the plates. I must likewise ac- knowledge my ignorance of Para' work» whicli Chan- dler mentions with commendation.

In 1761, Stuart enriched his eountrr with Ids eele> A. D; lyti. brated work, intitaled, AniiqmHet <^ Athene, It is a grand undertaking, particularly useful to artists, and executed, with that accuracy of admeasurement, which Is, at the present day, considered sneh a high recom* mendation: but the general effect of the prints is not flood; the whole together is deficient ii| that truth Wlneh pervades ^e details. *

Chandler's Travels, which %peeffiy followed Bto* A. B. 1764. art's JBLntUpâtU», might enable us to dispense nilh aU ^^^^*^^- the> others. In this worir tfie doctor has displayed un- «common fidelity, a plea^ng and yet profound erudi^ A. D. STH. lion^ sound criticism and exquisite taste. I have only imefMiU to find with hhn, which is, that he frequently mentions Wheeler, but never introduces the name of ■pon without a mailed rdnctaoce. Spon certalniy



A. D. 177S. BeideBel.

A. D. 1778.



A. D. 1780. Foueherot and FauYel.

A. D. 1780. Yiiloison.

A. D. 1785. Lechevalicr.

A. D. 1794. Sorofani.

deserTes to be noticed when the partner of liis labonro is spoken of; Chandler, as a scholar and a tràreller, ought to have forgotten that he was an Englishman. In 1805, he published his last work on Athens, which I have not been able to procure.

Riedesel visited the Péloponnèse and Attica in 1773. He has filled his little work with many grand reflec- tions on the manners, laws, and religion of the Greeks and Turks. The baron travelled in the Mo- rea three years after the Russian expedition. A great number of monuments had perished at Sparta, at Ar- gos, and at Megalopolis, in consequence of this inva- sion ; in the same manner as the antiquities of Athens owed their final destruction to the expedition of the Venetians.

The first volume of M. de Choiseul's magnificent work appeared at the beginning of 1778. This per- formance I shall have frequent occasion to mention with deserved commendation. I shall merely remark in this place, that M. de Choiseul has not yet published the monuments of Attica and of the Péloponnèse. The author was at Athens, in 17^4 ; and it was the same year, I believe, that M. Chabert determined the latitude, and lon^tude of the temple of Minerva.

The researches of Messrs. Foueherot and Fauvel began about 1780, and were prosecuted in the suc- ceeding years. The memoirs of the latter describe places and antiquities heretofore unknown. M. Fau- vel was my host at Athens, and of his labours I shall speat in another place.

Our ^eat Greek scholar d'Anse de Villoison trav- elled over Greece nearly about this period, but we have not reaped the benefit of his studies.

M. Lechevalier paid a hasty visit to Athens in 1785.

The travels of M. ^crofani bear the stamp of the age, that is to say, they are philosophical, political, economical, kc. To the study of antiquity they con- tribute nothing; but the author's observations on the


soil, population, and commerce of the Mprea are ex- eelient and new.

At the time of M. Scrofani's travels, two English- men ascended the moat elevated summit of the Tay- Settts.

In '1797, Messrs. Dixo and Nicolo StephanopoH A. D 1797. » were sent to the republic of Maina V the French ^^ Stepli^*' government These travellers «highly extol that re- nopoU. public, which has been the subject of much discus- sion. For my part, I hjAve the misfortune to consider the Mainottes as a horde of banditti, of Sclavoniau extraction, and no more the descendants of the ancient Spartans, than the Druses- are the offspring of the Ctount de Dreux. I cannot, therefore, share tfie en* thusiasm of those who behold, in the^e pirates of Tay~ getus, the virtuous heirs of Lacedsemonian liberty.

M« Foucque ville would certainly be the best guide A. D. 179s. for the Morea, if ,he had been able to visit all the ^^"*l"*'^'"*'- glaees that he has described. He was, unfortunately, a prisoner at Tripolizsa.

Ittout this- time Lord Elgin, the EngUsh ambttsador Lord Elgin, at Constantinople, caused researches and ravages to HawkS ""** be made in Greece, which I shall have occasion to praise and to deplore. Soon after him, his country- men, Swinton and Hawkins, visited Athens, Sparta, and Olympia.

The fragments designed to contribute to the Knon^ A. D. 1803. le^e of modern Greece conclude the list of all these ^"^^^**- travels. ' They are, indeed, but fragments.

Let us now sum up, in a few words, the history of the monuments of Athens. The Parthenon, the tem. pie of Victory, great part of the temple of the Olyra- pian Jupiter, another monument denominated, by Guillet, the lontem of Diogenesy were seen, in all their beauty, by Zygomalas, Cabasilas, and Deshayes.

De Monceaux, the marquis de Nointel, Gallandt

father Babin, Spon, and Wheeler, also admired the

Parthenon while yet entire ; but the lantern of Diogenes

had disappeared, and the temple of Victory had been



blown up by the explosion of a powder magazine ;* so that no part of it was left standing but the pedi* ment

Pococke, Leroi» Stuajrt, and Chandler, found the ' Parthenon half destroyed by the bombs of the Vene- tiansy and the pediment of the temple of Victory de- molished. Since that period the ruins have kept con- tinually increasing. I shall relate in what manner they were augmented by Lord Elgin.

The learned world consoles itself with the draw* ings of M. de Nointel, and the picturesque tours of . L^roi and Stuart M. FauTel has taken casts of two cariatides of the Pandroseum, and some basso relievos of the temple of Minerva. A metope of the same temple is in the hands of M. de GhoiseuL Lord £1* gin took away several others, which, perhaps, perish- ed with the ship that foundered at Gerigo. Messrs. Swinton' and Hawkins possess a bronze trophy, found at Olympia. The mutilated statue of Ceres Eleusioa is also in England. Last^, we have in terra eoUa the choragic monument of Lysicrates. It ia a melancholy A. D. 13a reflection; that the civilised nations of Europe have done niore injury to the monuments of Athens, in the space of one hundred and fifty years, than all the bar- barians together in a long series of ages : it is cruel to think that Alaric and Mahomet II. respected the Par- thenon, and that it was demolished by Morosini and Lord Elgin.

  • This aceident hgppened ia 1656. '


I HAVE already observed, that it is my intentioii to ioquire, in this Second Memoir, into the authenticity of the Christian traditions relative to Jerusalem. The history of that city being involved in no obscurity, has no occasion for preliminary explanations.

The traditions respecting the Holy Land derive their certainty from three sources : from history, from religion, and from places of local circumstances. Let us first consider them in a historical point of view.

Christ) accompanied by his Apostles, accomplish- ed, at Jerusalem, the mysteries of his passion. The writings of the four Evangelists are the earliest do- cuments that record the actions of the Son of Man. The acts of Pilate, preserved at Rome, in the time of Tertullian,* attested the principal event of that histo- ry, the Crucifixion of Jesus of Nasareth.

The Redeemer exphred. Joseph of Arimathea ob- tained the sacred body, and deposited it in a tomb at the foot of Calvary, The Messiah rose again on the third day ; appeared to his apostles and disciples * gave them his instructions, and then returned to the right hand of his Father. At this time the church commences at Jerusalem.

It is natural to suppose that the first apostles and relatives of our Saviour, according to the flesh, who composed thu first church in the world, were perfect*^ ly acquainted with all the circumstances attending the life and death of Jesus Christ. It is essential to re^ marie, that Golgotha was out of the city, as well as the Mount of Olives : whence it follows, that the apostles might the more freely perform their devotions in the places sanctified by their divine master.

  • Apolg. adfers. Gent.


The knowledge of tbea^ places was not long coo- fined within a narrow circle of disciples ; Peter, in two harangues, converted eight thousand persons at Jenir salem ;* James, the brother of our Saviour, was elect- <^d the first bishop of this church, in the y^ear 35 of our era ;f and was succeeded by Simeon, the cousin of Jesus Christ, j: We then find a series of thirteen bish- ops, of Jewish race, who occupj a space of one hun- dred and twenty-three years, from Tiberius to the reign of Adrian. The names of these bishops* are Justus, Zacheus, Tobias, Benjamin^ John, Mathias, Philip, Seneca, Justus U., Levi, Ephraim, Joseph, and Jude.§

If the first Christians of Judea consecrated raonur ments to their' religious worship, is it not probable that they erected them, in preference, on those spots which had been distinguished by the miracles of their faith ? Can it be doubted, that in those times there ex- isted sanctuaries in Palestine, when the believers pos- sessed such at Rome, and in all the provinces of the empire ? When St. Paul, and the other apostles, gav«^ exhortations and laws to the churches of Europe and Asia, to whom did they address themselves, unless to a congregation of believers, meeting in one common f place, under the direction of a pastor ? Is not this even

implied bj the word EccUHa^ which, in Greek, signi- fies either an aesemhly^ or a place of asêembly ? St. Cyril takes it in the latter sense.lT A. D. »3, '^^^' election of the seven ^eacons, in the year 33 of

A. D. 51. the Christian era;** and the first council, held in 51,tf show that the apostles had particular places of meet- ing in the Holy City. We find no difficulty in believ- ing, also, that the Holy Sepulchre was honoured, from the first institution of Christianity, under the name of MartyrUm^ or (he Testimony, At least, St Cyril, bishop of Jerusalem, preaching in 347, in the church

« A ets of the Apostl. o. 4. and 4. f ^u*- ^^^^ ^^^^' lil>* I- o-.S-

t Eus. Hist. Eecl. lib. III. c. 11— SS.

$ Eos. HUt Eccl. lib. 111. c 35. and lib. IV. e. 5.

t Catech. XViri. ^» Acts, c 6. ft Acts, a. X5.


of Caivaiy, says, ** This temple does not bear the nam«  OÎ churchy like the others, but ia called Marturion Tes- tnnony^ as the prophet predicted.*

At the commencement of the troubles in Judea, ^* ^' ^^' during the reign of Vespasian, the Christians of Jeru- • salem withdrew to Pella,f and as soon as the city was demolished they, returned to dwell among its ruins. In the space of a few mon(hs,| they could not have forgotten the position of their sanctuaries, which be- ing, moreover, without the walls, must not have suf- fered much from the siege. Simeon, tile successor of * James, governed the church of Judea when Jerusa- lem was taken, since we find the same Sjmeon, at the age of one hundred and twenty years, receiving the crown of martyrdom during the reign of Trajan.|| The succeeding bishops, whose names -I have men- A.D.iir. tvMied, fixed their residence on the ruins of the Holy City, and preserved the Christian traditions respecting it

That the holy places were generally known in the a. D. 137. titte^of Adrian, is demonstrated by an undeniable fact. ' ^ That emperor, when he rebuilt Jerusalem, erected a Bti|tue Qf Venus on Mount Calvary, and another of Jii- piter on the holy sepulchre. The grotto of Bethle- hem was giT.en up to the riles of The folly Of idolatry thus published, by its imprudent |irofiina- tiojis, the silly doctrine of the Cross, which it was so much to its own interest to conceal. The faith made such rapid progress in Palestine, before the last Insur- rection of the Jews, that Barcochehas, the ringleader on this occasion, persecuted the Christians to oblige them to renounce their religion.^*

• S. Cyr. Cat XVl. lUom. f Koteb. Hist Eccl. lib. MI. 0. 5.

i Titui appeared before Jerosalem about Easter, in the year 70, and the city was taken in tb^ month of September, the same year.

It Eus. Hift Keel. lib. III. e. S$.

f Hieron. Epist ad Paul— Ruff. Soïom. Hist Eccl. fib. H. c. I. Socrat Hist, Eeel. lib. I. c. 17.— 8ct. lib. II.— Niceph. »b. XVIIT^

•• Ens. lib. IV. c. 8.



A. D. IM. Under Com- mod.

A. 11.911. Under Seve- rue.

A.D. 2ir. Under Car. A.D. 251. Under GaL

A. D. 984. Maerio.


A. a 169. Under Com- inod.

No sooner was the Jewish church of Jerusalem dis* persed by Adrian, in the year of Christ 1S7, than we find the church of the Gentiles established in that city. Mark was its first bishop, and Eusebins gives us a list of his successors till the time of Oioclesian. These were: Cassian, Publias^ Maximus, Julian, Caius, Symmachus, Caius II., Julian 11., Capiton, Yalens, Do* lichian, Narcissus, the thirtieth after the apostles,* Di- ns, Germanion, Gordius,f Alexander,! Mazabanes,^ Hymensus,) Zabdas, Hermon,1[ the last bishop be- fore the persecution of Diodesian.

Adrian,^ though so sealous in behalf of liis deities, did not persecute the Christians, except those of Jeru- salem, whom he, doubtless, looked upon as Jews, and who were, in fact, of the Israelitlsh nation. The apo- logies of Quadratus and Aristides are supposed to have made an impression upon him.^ He eVen wrote a letter to MInucius Fundanus« governor of Asia, for- bidding him to punish the believers without juaC

It is probable that the Gentiles, converted to tfie faith, lived peaceably at J2lia« or New Jerusalem, till the reign of DIoelesian : this is indeed evident, from the list of bishops of that church given above. When Narcissus filled the episcopal chair, the deacons were in want of oil at the feast of Easter: Narcissus, we are told, performed a miracle on that occasion.!} The^ Christians, at this period, therefore, celebrated the mysteries of their religion in public, at Jerusalem, and had, consequently, altars consecrated to their worship.

Alejcander, another bishop of ^Ëlla, during the reign of the emperor Severus, founded a library In bis dio- cess :^^ now, this circumstance must presuppose peace,

• Eai. lib. v. e. 12. f Kui. Ub. VJ. e. 10.

  1. Id. lib. VI. e. 10, 11. f Id. lib. Vn. e. 5.

II Id. lib. VII. 0. 2S. IT I<1- Kb- VII. e. 31. •• Tillem. Peraee. Soot Adr«-Eiii. lib. IV. c S, tt Kn«- Kb. IV. e. S. tt Eut. lib. VL o. à

|$«. sa

n«TRODV0TIO17. 99

leisure, and proaperity ; postscripts never open a pul>- lic school of philosophy.

If the faithful were not, at this tinie, allowed the possession of Calyary, the Hqljr Sepdiehre, and Beth- lehem, to celebrate their festivals, the memory of those sanctuaries could not, at least, be effaced. The veiy idols served to mark their places ; nay, more^ the Pagans themselves hoped that the temple of Venus, erected on the summit of Calvary, would not prevent the Christiatis from visiting the sacred Mount; for they rejoiced in the idea, that the Nazarenes, when they repaired to Golgotha to pray, would appear to be paying adoration to the daughter of Jupiter* This is a striking proof of the perfect know- ledge of the sacred placée retained by the church of Jerusalem.

There are writers who go still farther, and assert that, prior to the persecution of Diociesian, the Chris- tians of Judea had regained possession of the Holy Sepulchre.f It is certain that, St. Cyril, speaking of A. D. 396. tlM church oi the Holy Sepulchre^ positively says : txtatt,

  • < It is not long since Bethlehem was a country place,

and Mount Calvary a garden, the traces of which are yet visible.'"} What, then, had become of the profane • edifices ? There is every reason to believe that the - Pagans at Jerusalem, finding their number too small to maintain their ground against the increasing multitude of the faithful, by degrees forsook the temples of Adrian. If the Church, yet exposed to persecution, durst not rebuild its altars at the sacred tomb, it enjoyed, at least, the consolation of worship(>iog there unmolested, and of beholding the monuments of idola- try moulder into ruins.

We have now arrived at an ej>och when the Holy A, D. S27. places begin to shine with a lustre no more to be effaced. Constantiue having placed the Christian re- ligion upon the throne, wrote to Macarius, biahop

• Sozom. lib. II. e. t. f Bpitom.' BeU. Sacror. torn. VI.

I Cfiteehei. Xll. audXIV.


of Jerusalem. He ordered him to cover the tomb of our Saviour with a magnificent church.* Helena, the emperor's mother, went herself to Palestine, and di- rected search to be made for the Holy Sepulchre. It had been buried under the foundation of Adrian's edifices. A Jew, apparently a Christian, who, àccord- - inj; to Sozomenes, had preserved memorials of his forefathers, pointed out the place where the tomb must have been. Helena had the glory to restore to religion the sacred monument. She likewise disco- vered three crosses, one of which is said to have been recognised by its miracles, as the cross on which the Redeemer suSered.f Not only was a magnificent church erected at the Holy Sepulchre, but two others were built by Helena; one over the manger of tile Messiah, at Bethlehem| and the other on the Mount ' of Olives, in memory of the ascension of the Lord. I Chapels, oratories, and altars, by degrees marked all the places consecrated by the acts of the Son of Man : the oral tradition» were committed to writing, and thus secured from the treachery of memory.

Eueebiufi, in his ÏHslory of the Ckurdi^ his UJh of Conslaniint, and his Onomasticwn vrinum et locorum Saerce Scripturœ, has, in fact, descfibed the holy places

A.D. 337. ~ as we see them at the present day. He speaks^ of the Holy Sepulchre, of Calvary, of Bethlehem, of the Mount of Olives, and the grotto where Christ reveal, ed the mysteries- to the apostle^.^ After him comes St. Cyril, whom I have already quoted more than once : he shows us the sacred stations such as they were before and after their embellishments by Con- . stantine and St. Helena. Socrates, Sozomenes, Theo- doret, Evagrius, then give the succession of several bishops frotn Constantine to Justinian: MacariuB,ir

A. D. S98. Maximus,** Cyri^fj- Herrennius, Heraclius, Hilarius,|]:

  • Eus. in Const, lib. m. e. 35—43. Soor. lib. I. e. 9.

f Soer. e. 17.— Sozora. lib. IK. c. 1. i Eus. in Const, lib. H. c. 1,

$Eus. in Const lib. III. e. 43. If Soerat lib. I. o. 17.

  • ' Socrqt. lib. II. o. Si.— Sozom.r lib. II. e. SO.

ttSocrat. lib. III. c. 20. t* Sozom. lib. VI. e. 30

Iktroductioit. 41

Johi]»*^aUu9t, Martjrius, Elias, Peter, MacariuB II.,f

aod Johu.t the fourth of that name. A. p Sfi;

  • XJnd. Jul.

St Jerome, who retired to Bethlehem about the a- D. dS4. year 386, has left us in various parts of his works, ÇjJ^'Jj^^j the most complete delineation of the sacred places,^ Arcad.

  • ' It would be too long," says he in one of his let- y'^fi/jn^iB.

tersjf " to go through all the ages, from the ascen^ ^-J^ ^^ . flion of the Lord to the time in which we live, to re- il late how many bishops, how many martyrs, how many teachers have visited Jerusalem, for fhey would have thought themselves possessed of less piety and learn* ing had they not adored Jesus Christ on the very spot where the gospel began to diffuse its light from the summit of the cross."

St. Jerome déclarés, in the same letter, that pil- A. D. 485. grims from India, Ethiopia, Britain, and Hibemia,^^ resorted to Jerusalem, and sung in their various lan- guages the praises of Christ, around his tomb. He says that alms were sent firom all parts to Calvary; he mentions the principal places of devotion in Pa- lestiae and adds that, in the city of Jerusalem alone, there were so many sanctuaries that it was impossible A« D. 9|5«  to visit them all in one day. This letter is addressed to Mareella, and is conjectured to have been written by St. Paula and St. Eustochium, though it is ascribed in manuscripts to St. Jerome. Conhl then the believ- ers who, from the days of the apostles to the conclu* ûan of the fourth centuiy, had frequented the tomb of our Saviour, could they, I ask, be ignorant of the BUttati<^ of that tomb?

The same &ther of the church, in his letter to A. D. 4M; Bustochimn, on the death of Paula, thus describes the «  ^stations visited by tiie pious Roman lady :

" She prostrated herself," say» he, " before the cross, on the top of Calvaiy ; at the Holy Sepulchre

• SoBom. Bb. Vn. c. U. tEvagr.lib.lV. c. 37.

  • Eragr. lib. V. c. 14.

§ Epist. XXU. &o. De situ et nom. loe. hebraic, ke. •T Epnt. a.l Mi\rc^. *• Eçin, XXH,


she embraced the stone which (he angel rolled aWny, and kissed, with particular reverence (he spot whei^ the body of Christ was laid. She aaw on Mount Sion, the pillar where our Saviour was bound and scourged witli rods ; the pillar then supported the portal of m church. She dcmred to be conducted to tlie place where the disciples were assembled when the Holy Ghost descended upon tliem. She then repaired to Bethlehem and stopped by the way at Rachers se- pulchre. She adored the manger of the Messiah, arid pictured to herself the wise men and the shepherds as still present ihvrc. At Bethphagc she found the monument of Lazarus, and the habitation of Martha and Mary. At Sichar she admired a church erectei over Jacob's well, where Christ convei*srd with fte Samaritan woman, and lastly ; she found at Samaria the tomb of St. John the Baptist'**

This letter is of the year 404; consequently more than fourteen centuries have elapsed smce it was tvritten. Read all the accounts of the Holy Land, all the travels from Arculfe's to mine and you will sec A. tk 404. that the pilgrims have invariably ibund ami described the places marked by St. Jerome. Surely tfiis is at least a high and imposing anfiquîty.

A proof that the pilgrimages to Jerusalem were ôi older date than the time of St. Jerome, as that lear- ned writer has expressly said, is to be found in th'e Itinerary from Bordeaux to Jerusalem. fWiis llhie- mry was composed, according to the «blest critics la 333, for the use of the pilgrims from Gaul.f M auieit is of opinion that it was a sketch of the route for Some penoD charged with a comnils^Offi by the Prince : | but it is much more natural to suppose that it was designed for a general purfKise ; and this is the more probable as the holy places are there described 4. B. «79. So much is certain, that Gregory of Nyssa oeà^

» epiat «d Eostoch.

t Se« Weu. Prxrf. hi Itia. p. 5. 07. 47,-^Bcry. Chem de fEaJp

^ Ocng, I».

■iir«d the abuse, ad early as his, time of pîlgriinageii^ to Jei^salem.* He bad. hiuiBelf visited the holy places io379; he particularly mentions Calvary, the Holy Bepiilchre, the Moiint of Otives, and Bethlehem. W«  find this jpurncy aoçiong the works of the pious bishop, under the title of Ucr I^iero^plymie. St. Jerome lika- A. D. 40i wise endeavoured to dissuade Paulina from undertar king a pilgrimage to the holy huid.f

It was not only priests, recKises, bishops, and doc- tors that flocked frpm all quarters to Padestine at the- period of which we are treating; but likewise females. of high rank, even princesses and egipresses. I have already mentioned Paula and Eustochium, and must liot omit the two Meianias.| The monastery of Beth* lebem was filled with Uie \|^Q9X illustrious families of* Rome who Bed thither from Alaric. Fifty years be-^ fore, Eutropia, widow of Maximian Hercules, had made the tour of Palestine, and destroyed the relics of idolatry which still appeared at the fair of Tercbin- thus near Hebron.

In the age succeeding that of St Jerome, we never ioee sight of Calvair. it was then that 'Theodoret wrote his Ecclesiastical Bi^ory, in which we fimi fluent mention of the Christiaii Sion. We have a stlU more distinct view of it in the Lives of the Anchor- a. D. 430*. iifiSy hy the same author. St. P^ter, one of their num* ber, peefoxmed the sacred journey 4 Theodoret him- self passed thioijigh Palestine, where be surveyed with .astonishment the ruins of the teiiM>le*1[ The two pil- gnmages of the empress Eudocia, wife of Tbeodosius the younger, took place in this e^tury. Slie caused flsonasteries to be erected at Jerusalem, and thero ended her days in retirementa A. D. 45o« 

The commencement of the sixth eentury, furnishes a. u^ 50(> m with the itinerary of Antoninus pf Piacentia: he

• Epist ad Ambros. f Epist. ml Paulin. % Epist. XXII. $ Hist. ReHg. c. 6. % $erm. II. De Fine et Ju^cio.

a Evagr. c- SO ^-Zonar. in Theod.II. Ijto illustrious AthcQJftn Ilkdj- hlis {ik-eadv been mcntioited in th^ HrSlpcmc';:

M urrftoDucrioir.

A. i) 500. describes all the etatioiis fike St. Jerome. In Ûûb account I remark the buricU-place of jpilgriim^ at the gate of Jerusalem, which plainly evinces the aflluence of tlieee pious travellere. The author fomid Palestine covered with churches and monasteries. He sayâ^ that the Holy Sepulchre was adorned with precious atones. Jewels, crowns of gold, necklaces and brace- lets.*

J^ O. 573. Gregory of Tours, the eaiiSest historian of the French monarchy, also speaks in this century of the pilgrimages to Jerusalem. One of his deacons having gone to the Holy Land, had, with ibur other travellers, beheld a miraculous star at Bethlehem.f According to the same historian, there was then at Jerusalem a spacious monastery for the reception of travellers.^ It was, without doubt, the same establishment thai Brocard found two hundred years later.

A. D. 59S. In the same century it was also that Justinian exalted

the bishop of Jerusalem to the patriarchal dignity. The emperor presented to the holy sepulchre ihe sacred véseele which Titus had carried away from the temple. These vessels, which in 455, had fallen mta the hands of Genseric, were recovered by Bettsarius at Carthage.^

A. B. 613. Cosroes took Jerusalem in 613. Heraclius resta»*

ed to the tomb of Christ, the real cross which the Persian monarch had taken away. Twenty*three years afterwards, Omar made himself master of the

A. D. €39. Holy city, which continued under the yoke of the Saracens till.tlie time of Godfrey de Bouillon. In another part of this work will be found the hiëtory of tiie churth of the Holy Sepulchre during these calam- itous ages. It was saved by the invincible constancy of the believers of Judca : they never abandoned it, and the pilgrims» emulating their zeal, ceased not to throng to the sacred shore.

• Idn Dc Loc. Tei%Sanct. f Greg. Tur. de Martyr, lib I. c, 10. ^ Greg. Tur. deJMlyr. lib. t. c. 11. $ Procop. de Bef^and. tib. XI.


'BfTftODtfenoir. 4$

•'Some yea» after Omar's conquest, Âreulfe iMted A. D. 056. Paleatiiie.' Adamarniua, abbot of Iom^ a Britkh island, drevr up a deseription of the Holj Land» from tke account of the French bishop. This curious description is yet extant Seranius published it in 1619, at Ingolstadt, under this title : De Lod» Terrce ScmekBj ab. 3. An extract from it may be found in the works of the venerable Bcde iDe Sihi Hierusalem et Locorum Sanciarum liber. Mabillon has introduced the perfor- mance of Adamannus into his great collection : d€ia S. S. Ordin, S. Benedicii 11. 614.

Arculfc describes the holy places as they were in the time of St Jerome, and as we behold them at the present day. He represents the church of the Holy Sepulchre as a circular building: he found churches and oratories at Bethany, on the Mount of Olives, in the garden of the same name, and in that of Gethse- mane. He admired the magnificent church at Beth- lehem. These are precisely the same object» as arc still shown, and yet this description is of about the year 690, if we place the death of Adamannus in 704** It is to be observed that, m the time of St Arculfe, Jerusalem still went by the name of ^aSlia.

In the eighth ^;entury, we hâve two narratives elf A. D. 700. Travels to Jerusalem, by St Guillebaudrf m which A. 0| 7i5. the same places continue to be described, and tiie «ame traditions to be faithfully repeated* These nar- ratives are short, but the essential stations are marked. The learned William Cave| mentions a manuscript of the venerable Bede, in bibliotheea QuaiUm Copij cod^ 16ft, under the titie of UbeUus de SancHs Locis. Bede was bom in 672, and died in 732. Whatever may be the nature of this littie work, it must be placed in the eighth century.

During the reign of Charfemagne, at the commence- a. D. soa

• Ouil. Cav. Script. EccK Hist, litter, p. 398,

f CaniauThcsaur. Mob. Eccles. et Hist a Bam. torn, n, p. I.—

MabU. n. 372.

^ t Gail. 0«Y. Script Ecel. Hist. Utter, p. d3«.

A.D.M». mei^ Qf the ii»tk ceirtnisr; tke chalif Sww «1 RaachW, ceded to the Freoeh emperor the prop^yty of the Ho^ Sepulchre. Ghartea Bent ahaa to Palettinic» for one of his capitularies îb extant», with this head: De Eleemaaifna tnUUnda ad Jemsofe^n. The patriarch of Jerusalem had solicited the protection of the monarch of the west Ëginhard adds» that Charle* magne protected the Christians beyond sea.* At this period the Latin pilgrima possessed an hospital to th^ north of Solomon's Teniple, near the couvent of St^ Maiy ; and Charlemagne made a present of a library to this establishment We are informed of these particulars, by Bernard, a monk| who was in Palestine about the year 870. His account, which is vezy circumsianUali gives all the positions of the sacre4 places.f

A. D. 905. Elias, the third of that name, patriarch of Jerusalem,

wrote to Charles the Fat, at the commencement of the tenth century, soliciting his assistance towards thé rebuikllng of the churches of Judea. '* We shall not," says he, " cater into any récapitulation of our misfor^ tunes ; they must be well known to you from the pikcrims who daily come to viât tlie holy places, and who return to their own country-J

A. î>. iooo. The eleventh century, which terminâtes with the crusades, furnislies sereral travellers in'tlie Ho(y Land. Oldric, bishop of Orleans, witnessed the cere- mony of the sacred hre at the Holy Sepulchre.^ Gla* ber's chronicle, it is true, should be read with caution; but we have here to record a fact, not to discuss a point of criticism. Allatius, in SytnndcHa^ aive Opua- cxdisy &c. has also handed down to us the journey to Jerusalem of Eugesippus, a Greek. Most of the sacred places are described in it, and this acciount agrees with all that we know on the subject In thç

• In Vit Car. Mag.

t Mahiil. Act S. S. Ord. S. Ben. «eet Uf. psrt 2.

t Acherii Spicileg. torn. ii> Edit, à Ban*.

$ Glaker. Cbroi^. Qb. it. A^*Qae|i< Hilt. 9!raiie.

tottâdetMe alms to Paleatiiie. FInaUy, tire tnv^b of ^ '^ 1^^* Peter the Rermh, which were attended with Bueh important consequences, and the erasades themselres prore how strongly- the attention of the Ctmstiaa world was attracted to that remote region where the mystery of salvation was aDcamplfiflhed.

Jerosdem eonlisHied in the hands of French priaoes A. D. cioOr eighty-eight years ; and tiie historians of the coUedicai Gtsia Dd per Francos have recorded erery thing titttt recurred in the Holy Land during that period. Ben- jamin of Tadela visited Jndea ahont the year 1 1 73. ^' ^' "<•

When Saladin had retaken Jérusalem fifom the cm* A. D. iiS7. saders, the Syrians ransomed the church of the Holy Sepulchre for a considerable sum,a md pilgrims still continued to vint Palestine in: defiance of aU tha dan- gers attending the expt<Ution.

. Phocas in 1208^ Willdebrand of Oldenburg in 121 1, A. a lfO0. Jacob Vetraeo, or of Vetri, in 12dl,e and Brocard, a Dominican friar, in 1283,<2 visited the sacred places nnd repeated, in their Travels, all that had been said hrfore them on the subject.

For the fourteenth centiny we have Ludolph,6 Han- A. Si uoa. deville,/* and 6anuto.g

For the fifteenth, Breidenbach,A Tuchor,t and A. D. i4oe. Langi.A:

Forthe6ixteenthyHeyter,/Salignac^Pascha,n &c. ^' ^- ^*^

For the seventeeoth. Cotovic, Nau, and a hundred ^* ^* ^^^'

a 8RDat. Lib. Secret Fidel. Crue. Sap. Terr. Saoei n.

Ù Itiner. Hierw. «p. AHat Sjmmiet.

« Lib. de. Terr. Saoet-

d Oeicript urb Jera. et Loe. Tens Ssvet.

0 De Terr. Sanet. ei Itin. iliervfd. /Deicript. Jerasalem.

^ lib. Seeret. Fidet Crue. h Peregrifiat td. Sepaleb. Dov. s Rdte-beiehreib. Mm heil* st»bi k Hierotol. Urb. Tempt

1 Lib. HiiL Part. Orient.

ta itÎD. leronl. et Terr Sanot

^ PcrejsriB. tfirm «s«ct. Oeaerift. JMailinii.

48 nrmoooc^ùv,

A. a I7M Far the «i^itoe&tfa, Mumlrel, Poeocke^ ( Hasfielquîst.*

Hiese traveb which are moUiplîed mi.i^finUum^ are ail vepetitioi» of each other, and confirai the tra» ditions retetive to Jerusalem in the most invariable and striking manner.

What an astonishiag body of endence is here ! The apostles saw Jesus Christ; they knew the places honoured by the Son of Man ; they, transmitted the tra- dition to the first Gbristianchurch of Judea ; a regular suceession of bishops was established, and religiously preserved the sacred tradition. £usebius appeared, ^and the histoiy of the sacred places commenced. It was continued by Socrates, Soaomenes, Theodorçt, Evagrius, and St Jerome. Pilgrims thronged thither fix>m all parts. From this period to the present day, , an uninterrupted series of travels for fourteen centu-

ries, gives us the same facts and the same descriptions. What tradition was ever supported by such a host of witnesses ? He who has doubts on this subject, must refuse credit to every thing : and, besides, I have not made all the use of the crusades that I might have done. To all these historical proofs I shall add some reflections on the nature of religious traditions, and on the local situation of Jerusalem.

It is certain, that religious traditions are not so easi- ly lost as those which are purely historical. The for- mer are in general treasured in the memory of but a small number of enlightened persons, who may for- get the truth or disguise it according to their passions : the latter are circulated among a whole nation, and mechanically transmitted from father to son. If the principles of religion are rigid, as is the case with Christianity ; if the slightest deviation from a fact, or an idea becomes a heresy, it is the more probable, that whatever relates to that religion will be preserv ed from age to age with scrupulous fidefity.

  • I •h«n add no more to thw lilt, vbieh, periiaps, is already too

loog. In the foUowing ahceti will be {aund the names of .loanv otbcrtraYellen that are here omitted.

vstmmmaamu. 4f

I kmom iht^ in a long men of ymis, an extava* a. IX i0oc^ gust pietji an indiscreet seal, the igpioranee attached lo^ the tmes and to the infeiior elassea of society, may orerload a rdigion with tiaditiima which will not itand the test of eritldsm; but the ground work still remains. Eighteen centaries, all pointing out the same facta and the same monuments in the same pla- ces, cannot err. If certain objects of derotion have been mistakenly multiplied at Jemaalem, this is no reason for rejecting the whole as an imposture. Let us not, moreover, forget, that Chtistiamty was perse- cuted in its cradle, and that it has almost always conr tinned to suffer at Jerusalem. Now it is well known what fidelity prevails among partners in aflliction : to such, every thing becomes sacred, and the remains of a martyr are preserved wkh greater respect than the crown of a monarch. The child that can scarcely lisp, is already acquainted with this treasure ; carried at night by his mother to perilous devotions, he bean the singing, he beholds the tears of his kindred and friends, which engrave upon his tender memory, ob- jects that he can never afterwards forget; and, at aa age when he might naturally be expected to display nothing but cheerfulness, frankness, and levity, he learns to be grave, discreet, and prudent ; adversity is premature old age.

I find in Eusebius a remarkable proof of this vene* ration for a sacred relic. He relates that, in his time^ the Christians of Judea still preserved the chair of St James, the brother of our Saviour, and the first bishop of Jerusalem. Gibbon himself could not forbear ad- mitting the authenticity of the religious traditions cur- rent in Palestine. " They" (the Christians) says he,

    • fixed by unquestionable tradition, the scene of each

memorable event ;" — an acknowledgement of consid- erable weight from a writer so well-informed, and at the same time so prejudiced against religion.

Finally, the traditions concerning places, are not so apt to be distorted as those relative to facts, be* H




To the principal motive which impelled me after so many peregrinations to leave France once more, were added other considerations.. A voyage to the East would complete the circle of studies which I had always promised myself to accomplish. In the deserts of America I had contemplated the monuments of Nature ; among the monuments of man, I was as yet acquainted with only two species of antiquities, the Celtic and the Roman : I had yet to visit the ruins of Athens, of Memphis, and of Carthage. I was therefore solicitous to perform a pilgrimage to Jerusalem :

Qai deroto II grand 8eiM)icro adora, e seiogle U vota

At the present day it may i^pear somewhat strange to talk of TOWS and pilgrimages ; but in regard to this subject I have no iense of shame, and have long ranged myself in the class of the weak and superstitious. Probably I shall be the last Frenchman that will ever quit his country to travel to the Holy Land, with the idea, the object, and the sentiments of an ancient pilgrim. But if I have not the virtues which shone of yore, in the Sires de Coucy, de Nesic, de Castillon, de Montfort, faith at least is left me ; and by this mark I might yet be recognized by the ancient crusaders.

" And when I was about to depart>nd commence my jour- Bey," says the Sire de Joinville, " I sent for <he abbè de Che,

  • »'

64 TBAVELS IN Gilfi£C£| PALfiSTlBe,

minon to recondle myaelf with him. Audi g^dedmyaélf wMt my scarf, and took my staff in my hand, and preaenOy I aet oui from Joinviile without ever entering; the castle afterwards, liB my return from the voyage beyond sea^^-And so as I went ùam Bleicourt to Saint Urban, when I was dliliged to pass near ttie ca&tle of Joinviile, I durst not turn my &ee that way Beat I should feel too great regret, and my heaiiahould be loo ttfon^f affected."

On quitting my country again, the IStfa July, 18M, I was not afraid to turn my head like the seneschal of Champagne ; almoal a stranger in my native land, I left behind me neither casfle nxff cottage.

From Paris to Milan the route was not new to me; at Iffila^k I took the road to Venice, all around the coantry apptan# nearly like the Milanese, one dull but fertile morass ; 1 gave a few moments to the mounments of yerona,^icen8a, and Padua, On the 23d, I arrived at Venice, and spent five days in examin** ing Ihe remains of its former grandeur. I was shown some good pictures by Tintoret^ Paul Veronese, and his brother, Bassano, and 'ntlan ; I sought in a deserted church the tomb of tbe latter, and had some difficulty to find it, as I had once before at Rome to discover the tomb of Tasso. After all, the ashes of a rell. ^ous and unfortunate poet are not very much out of their place in an hermittagc. The bard of Jerusalem seems to have sought a last asylum in this obscure spot ; to escape the persecutions of men ; he fills the world with his famé, and himself reposes un- known, beneath the orange-tree of St Onuphrius.

I left Venice on the 28th, and at ten at night embarked for ierra Jirma, We had a breeze from the south-east sufficient tQ fill the sail, but not to ruffle the sea. As the vessel proceeded, I beheld <he liglits of Venice sink into the horizon ; and distin- guished, like spots upon tlie surface of the deap, the shadows of the different islands scattered along the coast These islands, instead of being covered with forts and bastions, are occupied by churches and ^lo^asterie8 ; thp sound of the clocks belong- ing to tlie hospitals and lazarets reached our ears, and excited no ideas but those of tranquility and succour, in the midst of the empu-e of storms and dangers. We approached so near to one of these retreats, as to perceive the monks watching



QW gohdola fu» it passed ; they looked like old marinerB, who, •fter tong peregrinationB, have returned to port: perhaps they 0irkve ÛÈim benediction io the voyager, recollecting that like him, llpey had themselves been strangers in the land of Egypt

I reached the main land before day-break, and took a post^ ehajse to carry me to Trieste. I tamed not out of my road to i^t A^ioileia; I felt no temptation to examine the breach by which the Goths and Huns penetrated into the native country of ■orace and Yir^, or to seek the traces of those armies which vere the executors of the wrath of the Almighty. On the 29th, at noon, I entered Trieste. This city is regularly built, and seated in a very fine climate, at the foot of a chain of sterile moumtaras ; it contains no monument of Antiquity. The last fertese of Italy expires on this shore, where the empire of barba- ôsm commences.

M* Seginer, the French consul at Trieste^ had the kindness fo undertake to procure me a passage. He met with a ship nady to sail for Smyrna, the captain of which took me on board with my attendant It was agreed that he should set me on ahore as he passed on the coast of the Morea ; that I should pro- ceed by land across the Peloponnesus ; that the vessel should wait for me some days at the Cape of Attica, and that, if at the expiration of this time I failed to make my appearance, ahe should then pursue her voyage.

We weighed anchor at one in the morning on the 1st of Au* gust — ^the wind was contrary as we left the harbour. Istria ex- hibited a low tract of coast, bordered in the interior of the coun* try by a chain of mount^s. The Mediterranean, placed in the centre of the civilized world, studded with smiling islands, and washing shores planted with the myrtle, the palm, and the olive, instantly reminds the spectator of that sea which gave birth to Apollo, to the Nereids, and to Venus ; whereas the ocean de- formed by tempests, surrounded by unknown regions, was well calculated to be the cradle of the phantoms of Scandinavia, or the domain of those Christian nations, who form such an awful idea of the greatness and omnipotence of God.

On the 2d, about noon, the wind became favourable, but the clouds which gathered in the west, announced an approaching storm; we heard the first clap of thunder off the coast of Croa


tîa; at (hree o'clock the sails were furled, and a taper Vas set up in the captain's cabin, at the feet of an image of the Dlesséd Virgin. I have elsewhere remarked how affecting is* that rèlfs gion which ascribes the dominion over tempests, or ratl^er 'Gie power of appeasing them, to a feeble woman. Sailors on shore may turn free-thinkers as well as any others, but ]:)uman wisdom is disconcerted in the hour of danger ; man then becomes reli- gious ; and the torch of philosophy cheers him in the midst of a Btorm, much less tlian a lamp lighted up before the Madonna.

At seven in the evening the tehipest was at its height. Our Austrian captain began a prayer amid torrents of rain and peiA of thunder ; we prayed for Francis II, for ourselves, and for the mariners sepolii in questo sacro tnure. The sailors, some standi ing and uncovered, othets prostrate upon the deck, also prayed responsive to the captain.

The storm continued during part of the night All ^e saH» being furled and the crew having gone below, I remained almost alone by the steersman at the helm. In this situation I had for- merly passed whole nights on tlie most tempestuous seas ; but I was then young, and the roar of the billows, the solitude of ocean, winds, rocks, and dangers, were to me so many sources of enjoyment I have perceived in this last voyage that the face of objects has changed for me. I am now capable of duly appreciating all those reveries of early youth ; and yet such is the inconsistency of man, that I again listened to the siren voice . of hope, that I again went forth to collect images and to seek colours with which to adorn pictures, destined perhaps to draw down upon me vexations and persecution. I paced the quarter- deck, and from time to time scrawled a note with my pencil by the light of the lamp placed near the compass in the steerage. The mar at the helm looked at me with astonishment ; he took me, I suppose for a French naval officer, busily engaged like himself with the ship's course ; he knew not that my compass was not so good as his, and that he should make the port with greater certainty than I.

The next day, August 3d, the wind having settled in the north-west, we swiftly passed the islands of Ponmio and Pela- gosa. Leaving the last of the islands of Dalmatia on our left,

we émeAhté on oor right Mount Sit Angdo, the aaeieiit Gar* gWMtt>«lnch eoTers Manfredonia, near the nuns of Sipontum on die oosBt of Italy.

On aie 4th^ it fell calm; a breese spmng up at Bun-set, and «we continued our course. At twa o'clock^ the night being magnificent, I heard a cabin-boy singing the «OBuneneenient of the seTenth canto of the Jerusalem :

Intanto Erminia iofin l'ombrose plante, &c

The tune was a kind of recitative, tèry high In the intonalioit and descending to the lowest notes towards the concluded of the verse. This picture of rural felicity delineated by a mari- ner in the midst of the sea, appeared to me more enchanting Ibaii ever. The ancients, our masters in every thing, well knew the effect of these moral contrasts. Theocritus has some* times placed his swains on the margin of the deep, and Virgil loves to bring together the recreadona of the husbandman, and tile labours of the mariner:

Invitât ^niatis hyemt, enrasqnc r«aoh'U : Ceu preassB oam jam portnm leiigêre carine; Puppibus et Isti naote imposaère ooronas.

On the 5th, the wind was violent; it brought us. a grayi^th bird, nearly resembling a laric ; it was hospitably received. Sai- lors are in general pleased with whatever forms a contrast to their turbulent life : they delight in eveiy thing connected with the remembrance of rural life, as the barking of dogs, the crow- ing of the cock, the fl^ht of land birds. At eleven in thç morn- ing of the same day we were at the galas of the Adriatic ; that b to say, between Cape Otranto hi Italy^ and Ui^etta in Albania.

I was now on the frontiers of Grecian antiquity/ as well as on the confines of Latin antiquity. Pythagoras, Alcifoiades, Sci- pio, Cœsar,*Pompey, Cicero, Augustus, Horace, and Virgil had crossed tliis sea. What different fortunes all those celebrated characters consigned^to the inconstancy of these same biilowa ! And I, an obscure traveller, passing over the effaced trjick of tlie vessels which earned the great men of Qreeee and Ita(y, wi»


59 TRAVSi;» m GRECCÉy >Âl.fi0TIN£y

repairing to ihtif native land în-quest of tiie Jlffises ; but I am not* VirgU, and the gods no logger divell upon Olympus.

We advanced towards the island of Fano ; it bears togeliief' «riOi the rock of Merlera, the name of Othonos or GaljpsoV isliand, in some ancient ni«xps. D\4.n ville seems to dis&igumll' it by this appellation ; and M. Lechevafier adduces the authority of this geographer in support of his opinion tliat Fano was the place were Ulysses so long deplored his absent country. Pro- copius somewhere observes, that if one of the small islands sv* l»ounding Corfu be taken for the island of Calypso, thia will give probability to. Homer's narrative. In this case, indeed, a bo«t woukl suffice to proceed fVom this inland to tliatof Scheria (Cor* <syra, or Corfu ;) but the passage must have been attended widr great ^fficulties. Ulysses departs with a favourable wind, «Be after a voyage of eighteen days, he perceives Scheria rising like a shield above the surface of the deep. Now if Fano be Calypso's island, it is close to Scheria. Instead of requiring a navigation of eighteen whole days to descry the coast of Corfii, Ulysses must hâve seen it from the wood where he constructed his vessel. Pliny, Ptelemy, Pomponius Mela, the anonynioUa author of Rav^enna, throw no light upon this subject ; but Wood and the moderns may be consulted respectiug the geography of Homer. All these, with Strabo, place the island of Calypso in that part of the Mediterranean situated between Africa and Malta.

For the rest, Fano shall be with all my lieart, the enchanted island of Calypso, tliough to me it appeared but a small heap of whitish rockô : I will there plant, if you please, with Homer, " a forest dried by the sun's fervid rays, of pines and alders, filled Avith the nests of Sea-crows ;" or with Fenelon, ^* I will there find groves of orange-trees, and mountains whose singular ^apee form an horizon as diversified as the eye could wish." I envy not him who would not behold nature with the eyes of Fenelon and of Homer.

The wiaû having lulled about eight o'clock in ttie evening, and the sea being perfectly smooth, the ship remained motion- less. Here I enjoyed the first sun-set, and the first night beneath the sky of Greece. To the left we had the island of Fano^ and


llmt of Corcjra stretching away to the east: ^yond these were ' sees the high lands of the continent of Spire ; the Acroceraimian iii|^lintai|i8, which we had passed, formed to the northward beMnd i^a circle which terminated at the entrance of the Adriatic ; on mvr.rii^t, that is, to the west, the sun went down beyond the coast ' of Otranto; and before us was the open sea, extending to the ahorea of Africa.

The Goloiirs produced by' the setting sun were not brilliant;, that luminary descended between clouds which he tinged of a roseate hue ; he suQk below the horizon, and twilight supplied his place for half an hour. During this short interval, the sky was white in the west, light blue at the zieuilh, and pearl-gray in the east. The stars, one after another, issued from this admirsr bk canopy ; they appeared small, not very bright, but slied a golden light, so soft that it is impossible for me to convey any idea of it The horis^on of the sea, skirted with a slight vapour^^ was blended with that of the sky. At the foot of Fano, or the island of Calypso, was seen a flame, kindled by fishermen. Witli a little stretch of ima^nation, I might have seen the Nymphs setting fire to the ship of Telemachu»; and had I been so dispo» eed| I might have heard Nausicaa sportively convenùag with her •ompanloniy or Andromache's lamentation on the banks of the^ lalae Simoîs, since I could perceive at a distance, through the tminsparent night, the mountams of Scheria and Buthrotum :

Prodigiosa vetenim mendacia Tatum.

The climate operates more or less upon the taste of nations. In Greece, for instance, a suavity, a softness, a repose pervade all Nature, as well as the works of the ancients. You may almost conceive, as it were by intuition, why tho architecture of the Par- thenoahas such exquisite proportions ; why ancient sculpture is so unaffected, so tranquil, so simple, ivhen you have beheld the. pure sky, and the delicious scenery of Athens, of Corinth, and of Ionia. In this native land of the Muses, Nature suggests no wild deviations*; she tends, on the oontrafy, to dispose the mind to the love of the uniform and of the harmonious.

The calm continued on the 6th, and I had abundant leisure to survey Corfu, in ancient times alternately called Drepanum, Macria; Scheria, Corcyra, Ephisa, Cassiopea^ Ceraunîa, and even

99 MAvqiiH IN «ftsse», palbbtinx:,

Arg08. Upon this* iBlftnd Ulysses wai» cast naked lAerliift sMp* wreck. Woold to Qod that the coiutry of Aldnps lanAiu/vei been celebrated, but for fietitiouB misfortunes ! In spHe of mywtHf I called to mind the troubles of Corc3rra, which Thney^Aet has so eloquently related/ It seems, however, as if Homery in IBfn^ng the gardens of Alcinous, had attached something poetital lind manrelous to the destinies of Scheria. There Amtotle expiated, in banishment, tlie errors of a passion which philosophy bas not always the strength to surmount Alexander inhisyonth, baring quitted the court of his fiflither Philip, landed at Goreyra, and the islanders beheld the first step of the armed stranger, who was d^'stined to visit aU the nations of the globe. Several natives of Corcyra won crowns at the Olympic games ; their natties were immortalized by the verses of Simonides, and the statues <rf Polycletus. Consistently with its two-fold destiny, Corcyra con- tinued to be, under the Romans, the theatre of gloiy and of mis- fortune. Cato, after the battle tif Fharsalia, met Cicero at Corcyra. What a fine subject to work upon wonld be the interview -be- tween these two Romans ! What men ! wHat sorrows t what vicia- aitudes of fortune f We ahonld behold Cato offering to^ relinquish to Cicero the command of the^last repnblican legions, becanse Cicero had beeii consul. Thf y wonld then «eparate ; the otte to tear out his bowels at Utica, the other to carry his head to the triumvirs. Not long aftei'wards, Anthony and Octavia celebrated at Corc3rTa, that fatal marriage which proved the source of so much aflliction to the world; and scarcely had half acentuij elapsed, when Agrippina repaired to the same place, to pay fune- ral honours to Oermamcas: as if this island were destined to fundsh two historians, rivals In gemus as in language,* with the subject of the most admirable of their pictures.

Another order of things and events, of men and manners fre- quently brings forward the name of Corcyra, at that time Corfu, ' in the histories of Byssantium, of Naples, and of Venice, and in the collection entitled: Oesta Dei per Trmeos. It was from Corfu that the army of crusaders, which seated a French gentle- ' man on the throne of Constantinople, took its departure. But, TT^e I to say any thing concerning Apollidoms, bishop of Corfii,

  • Thaefdidef and TacituiL

mstrr, àxm -KpcMct. 81

' jth» iBrtJngnîwhed bknaelf by hUdootrme at tbe eaimcil of NiGe, eoBoersing St Arseniiia aud George, like^vise prelalt-s of this jatod ; were I to observe that the ehurch of Corfu was the only

X rene whjcb ^eacaped the persecutioD of Dioclesian, or that Helena,

'the Bioàier of ConaAantine, set out firom Corfu on her pilgrimage to the east, I abaald be afraid of exciting a smile of compassion in the faee of the free-thinker. How is it possible to bring in the ttamBs oC 8t Jason and St Sopistratus, apostles of the Cor- eynsansy during the reiigQ of Claadhis, after baring mentioned

' Homer, Aristotle, Alexander, Cicero, Cato, and Germanicus ? .And yei is a martyr to independence a greater character than a maityc to truth? • Is Ciito, deyoting himself for the liberties of Rome, more'heroic thaa Sopistratits, suffering himself to he burn- ed in a brazen buU,for'pvoclaiming> to men that they are brethren; that they ought to love and sttceour one another, and exalt them- selves to the presence of the true God, by the practice of virtue? I had abundant leisure for these reflections <m beholding the afaore^ of Corfu, off which we were detained by a prol«>und calm. The reader perhs^is wishes for a favourable wiQd to waft me to Greecet and to relieve him from my digressions: .such a.wind we had on the morning of the 7th. A breeze from the north-west iinmng up, and we passed Cefaionia» On the 8th, we had, on

' our left Leuc^te, now 1^. JMbui^ which was blended in the view with a lofty promontory of the island of Ithaca and the Ibw-lands ^ Gefolonia* You no longer «Usoover in the country of Ulysses, either the forest of Mount Nereus^.or tbe thirteen pear4ree8 of Laertea. These 4«st have disayn— itfd as well as the two -still more venerable trees of the «am^ iEind, which Henry IV gave for a watch-word U his army at ^e battle of Iviy. I paid my distant salutations to the cotise of Sunuans, and to the tomb of ^ faithful dog. We know of but one ^og eelelirated for his ingratitude; he was ca^ed Matb, and belonged, if .1 recollect rightly, to one of the kings of Sqgland, of aie house of Lancaster. History has been at the pfioa of recording the name of this un- grateful animal, as she preserve» the name of a man who.contin- nes faithful amidst adversify.

On the 9th, we coasted aloi^ Gafalomai and rapidly approach- ed Zante, the nemorosa Zaeynthoa. The inhabitants of tins island ^erp looked upon in ancient timesi as being otf Trojan origin:



thej pretended to be the descendants of Zacjnthus, t!ie ton oC Dardanus, who conducted a colony liither. They founded Sa% guntumj in Spain ; they were fond of the arts, and delighted in hearini; tlie verses of Homer sung : they frequently afforded an asylum to proscribed Romans, and it has even been asserted that Cicero's ashes were found among them. If Zaute ha» ac- tually been the refuge of exiles, gladly would I decree it any honours and subscribe to its appellations of Isola d^oro^ and Fior, a Levante. The latter reminds me that the hyacinth originally^^ came from Zante, and that this island received its name from tlie flower which it had produced : tlius, in order to confer honour on a mother, the ancients sometimes added the name of her daugh* ter to her pwn. In middle ages, we find a tradition that is. not generally known, relative to the island of Zante. Robert Quis- card, duke of Apulia, died at Zante, on his way to Palestine. It had been foretold that he should expire at Jerusalem^ whence it has been concluded^ that in the fourteenth century, tlie whole island, or some place in it, was thns denominated. At the present day Zante is celebrated for its springs of petroleum) as it was in the time of Herodotns, and its currants rival those of Corinth.

Between the Norman pilgrim Robert Goiscard, and myself, a». Breton pilgrim, it is, indeed, a good many years ; but in this inter- ral» the Seigneur de ViUamont, my countrjrman,* passed by Zante. He set out in 1588, from the dutchy of Bretagne for Jerusalem. ^Courteous reader," says he, at the commencemeut of his Tra* Tels, '^ thou wilt receive this my little work, and correct, if thou pleasest, the faylts which it may happen to contain ; and, receiv- ing it with as good a will as I present it to thoe, thou wilt give me courage in iuture not * to be sparing of tjhe good things which I have had leisure and opportunity to collect; serving France ac-* «ording to my desire."

The Seigneur de Villamont did not land at Zaute : he eam^ like me, in sight of the island, and like me, was driven by a strong , west wind towards Morea- I awaited with impatience the mo- % ment when I should discover the coasts of Greece ; I kept my eyes fixed on the liorizon, and fancied every cloud to be the • wished-for object On the morning of the 10th, I was upon deck Wore the sua Imd risen. As he issued from the de^, I pei»r


c«ÎTed confused and lofty moantains in the distance ; thëj were the mauntaina of Elis. Glory mnat sorely be something real, feince it makes the heart of him who is but the judge of it, throb with such violence. At ten we passed Kavarin the ancient Py- losy covered by the island of Sphactéria ; names equally ceiebrar ted, the one in fable, the other in history. At noon we came im an anchor off Modon formerly Methone, in Messenia. In aB- tather hour I was on shore, I trod the classic soil of Greece I was but ten leagues from Olympia, thirty from Sparta, on the Toad which Telemachus followed when repairing to Menelaim à> make inqmries respecting his father ; and it was not yet a ' month «inee I quitted Paris.

Our ship had anchored half a league from Modon, in Ifae pas^ sage ibrmed by the continent and the islands of Sapienza and Ca- brera, formerly Œmissœ. Viewed from this point, the coaât of Peloponnesus, towards Navarin, appears dreary and barren. Be- yond this coast, at some distaiiee inland, rise mountains, seem- ingly of white sand, covered by withered herbage : these were ne- rértheles» the Elgaleàn mountains, at the foot of which Pylos was bailt Medon has the appearance of a town of the middle ages, «unrounded with Gothic fortifications, half in ruins. Not a ve^ seA in the harbour, not a creature upon the shore ; all was siiencei jolitude, and dessoiation;

I went into the ship's boat with the captain, to get intelligence •on land. Wo* approached the beach : I was ready to spring but upon a desert shore, and to salute the native country of arts and of g^ius, when we were hailed from one of the gates of aie town. We were obliged to change our course, and make for ^e ^sastie of Modon. We perceived at a distance, on the top of a rock, some janissaries, completely armed, and à number of Turics drawn thither by curiosity. As soon ifts we were within hearing, they caHed out to us in Italian : Ben venuii f like a true Greek, I took notice of these first words of good omen, that greeted my ears on the «hore of Messenia. The Turks plunged into the 'Water for the purpose of hauling oiir boat to land, and asûated us to leap upon the rock. They all spoke at once, and asked a thousand questions of the captain in Greek a^d Italian. We en- tered by the half ruined gate of the town, and advanced into a irtreet, or rather iato a real camp, which instantly reminded me


of the beautiful expression used by M. de Bonaldr " The Turktf bave encamped in Europe.'^ It is scarcely possible to conceive Irow just is this expreagion in its fullest extent, and in all ita bearings. These Tutars of Modon were seated before their doors, cross-legged, on a kind of stalls or wocnlen tables, be- neath the shade of tattered canvas, extended from one house to another. They were smoking their pipes and drinking coffee» and, contrary to the idea which I had formed of the taciturnity of the Turks, they laughed, and made a good deal of noise.

We repaired to the Aga, a poor wretch lying upon a sort ^ camp-bed in a penthouse ; he received me with great kmdneas. The object of my voyage being explained to Imn, lie replii^d, that lie would take care that I should be furnished with horses and a janissary to take me to Coron, to the French consul, M. Vial ; that I should find no diAiculty in traversing the Morea, because tiie roads were clear, since examples had been made of three or four hundred banditti ; and that there were now no impedi- ments to travelling.

The history of these three or four hundred banditti, is as fol- lows : — ^Near Mount Ithomc there was a band of about fifty rob- bers, who infested the roads. The Pacha of the Morea, Osman Pacha repaired to the spot ; he surrounded the villages wliere the robbers were accustomed to take up their quarters. It would have been too tedious and troublesome for a Turk to distinguish between the innocent and the guilty : all withioMthe Pacha's in- closure were despatched like wild beasts. The robbers it is true, were exterminated ; but with tliem perished three hundred Greek peasants, who were accounted as nothing in this affair.

From the house of the Aga, we proceeded to the habitation of the German vice-consul, for France had not then an agent at Modon. He resided in the quarter of the Greeks, without the town. In ail those places that are militaiy posts, the Greeks live separate f^om the Turks. The vice-consul confirtned what the Aga had told me respecting the state of the Morea, he offered me hospitality for the night, which I accepted, and returned for a momecit to the ship in a galley boat, which was afterwards to carry me back to (lie shore.

I left Julian my French servant, on board, with directions to wait for me in the ship, at the pronAoutory of Attica, or at Smyr-

lifttrr^ ASD BABBART. .CIS

iiéjlf t âlK>i)id nÀAn the vessel. I fastened round me A girdle coft- i<inin; What specie I possessed, i armed my self at all points, imd took Into my sernce a Milanese, named Joseph, a dealer in un éUSmyfm. This man spoke a little modern Greek, and he agreed for a stipulated sum, to aet as my interpreter. I took leave of the eaptaih, and went with Joseph into the hoat The wind wa» violent and ceotrary. It took five hours to reach tho harbour, from which we were not more than half a leagiM distant^ and were twiee near upsetting. An old Turk, with a gray heard, animated eyes, deep sunk heneath husfay brows, and long and Mtremely white teeth, guided the helm, tfometimea in silence, at others shouting wildly. He was no bad representatioa of Time Carrying a traveller in his bark to the âe?<6rt shores of GreeceJ The vi<;e-consul was waiting fdr me on the beach. We went ié our lodgings in the Greek town. By the way I admired some Turkish tombs, ov'er-arched with spreading cypresses, and the* wares breaking at their base. Anibilg these tombs I perceived female figures covered with white veils, and looking like ghosts r this was the only circumstaiice that reminded me at all of thé country of the Muses. The ceiiietry of the Christians adjoin^, that of the Mussulmans ; it is in a ruidous state, without sepal-* c&ràl stones, and without trees : water-iiiellons growing here anrf there among these forsaken tombs, resemble, both in their fbrm and the paleness of their colour, human skulls, which thé survivors have not taken the tix>uble to bury. Nothing can be more dreary than these two cemeteries, Where you observe th«  distinctions of tyrant and slave, eveii iii the equality and inde- pendence of death.

The abbé Barthélémy considered Methone as so uninterest- ing in antiquity, that he has made mention of nothing but it» spring of bituminous water. IiiglorioUs, amid so many cities founded by the go(fe or celebrated by the poets, Methone occurs not in the songs of Pindar, which, with the works of Homer, con- stitute the brilliant archieves of Greece. Demosthenes recapitu- lating the history of Messenia in his oration in behalf of the Me- galipolitans, makes no mention of Mettions. Polibius, a native of Megalopolis, who gives excellent advice to the Messenians, maintains the same silence. Plutarch and Diogenes Laertius, tAuiie not one here, not one philosopher of that place. Athensns»



AniuB OeDhib, and Macrobiiis record nodiing of Mettons. Finally, Pliny, Ptoleiny, Pompoaius MeUa, and the anonymooa writer of Rarenna, merely mention its name in enumerating thm towns of Mesaenia; but Strabo and PauBanias will have {t ttai If ethone is the Pedaaus of Homer. According to PausaniaB, it derives the name of Methone or M othone from a daughter of CEneus, a companion of Diomed, or from a rock winch obstmcta the entrance of the port Methone frequently occurs in ancient history, but never as the scene of any impprtant event Thucy» ^des speaks of some bodies of Hoplites from Methone, in the Peloponnesian war. From a fragment by Diodorus Siculus- w«  Ind that Brasidas defended this place agtdnst the AUienians, The same writer terms it a town of Laconia, because Messenia was a conquest of Lacedœmon, which s^it to Methone, a ec^Mp ^ Nauplians^ who were not expelled from their new countijr when Epaminondas recalled the Messenians. Methone shared the fate of Greece, when the latter passed under the Roman yoke. Trajan granted privileges to Methone. The Peloponneao having become an appendage to the eastern em|»re, Methone underwent the same revolutions as tiie rest of the Morea. Laid waste by Alaric, and perhaps stUI more cruelly ravaged bj Stilico, it was disinembered from the Greek empire in 1 124, by Ihe Venetians. Restored to its former masters in the following year, it again fell under the dominion of Venice in 1204. A Genoese corsair dispossessed the Venetians in 1208. The doge fiandolo recovered it from the Genoese. In 1498 it was taken from Venice by Mahomet II, who made himself master of aS Greece. Morosini reconquered it in 1686, from the Turks, who again obtained possession of the country in 1715. Three years ' afterward^, PeHegrin visited this town, of which he has given n description intermingled with the scandalous chronicle of all th^ French consuls. Such is th^ obscure history of Metb<me from Homer to the present day. As to what befel Modon at the time ùi the expedition of the Russians in the Morea, the reader » referred to the first i^olume of the Tra:rels of M. de Choiseul, and the history of Poland by Rhullièrea.

The Crerman vice-consul, who lives in a wretched plastered hut, cordially invited me to a supper, consisting of water^melona, cwpes, an4 black bread ; a person must not bç nice in regard ,t0

fMoMiM when he is bo near to Spaita. I iken retired to the 'têtuabet prepared for me, but was unable to close me eyes. I fteard tbe baridng of a Laconian dog, and the whistling of the 4vitad of îSlis; how then was it possible for me to go to skepf At three in the morning of the 1 1th, the Aga's jamss^iy came to ^^prke me that it was time to set out for Goron. ' We immediately mounted our horses. I shall describe tii# teder of the caTalcade, as it continued the same throughout- the whole journey.

At our head appearedthe guide, or Greek postillion on horse* l^ack, leading a spare horse proTided for remounting any of the party in case an accident should happen to his steed. Next came the janissary, with hh turban on his head, two pistols and a dagger at his girdle, a sabre by his side, and a whip to flog the horses of the guide. I followed, armed neariy in the same man- ner as the janissary, with the addition of a fowling piece. Joseph brought up the rear. This Milanese was a short, fair man, with a large belly, a florid complexion, and an affable look; he was Pressed in a complete suit of blue velvet ; Two large horse pistols atuck under a tight belt, raised up his waistcoat in such a grotesque manner, that the janissary could never look at him without laughing. M^r baggage consisted of a carpet to sit down upon, a pipe, a coffee-pot, and some shawls to wrap round mjr head at night We started at the sigiuil given by our guide, ascending the Mils at full trot, and descending over^precipices in a gallop. Ton must make up your mind to it; the military Turks know no otiier paoes^ and the least sign of timidity^ or even of prudence, would expose you to their contempt. You are, moreover, seated on Mameluke saddles, with wide short stirrups, which keeps your legs constantly bent; which break your toes, and lascerate the flanks of your horse. At the slightest trip, the elevated pommel comes in most painful- contact with your belly; and if you are thrown the contrary way, the high ridge of the saddle breaks your back. In time, however, you find the u&ity of these saddles, in the sureness of foot which tiiey give to the bprse, especially in such hazardous excursions.

Yon proceed from eight to ten leagues with the same horses. Abo»t)hatf way they are suffered to take breath, without eating; l^oii tiien mount again, and continue your journey. At night yojof


Bometimet arrive At a kail, th« ruins of a forsaken house, "WheHi you sleep among all sortd of insects and reptilee, on a worm-eateH floor. At ^is kan you can demand nothing, unlesB you hirvfe it l^ost firman ; bo that you must procure provisions as you can* My janissary went a foraging in the villages, and sometîmètf brought back fowls, which I Insisted on paying for. Webtftf fbem broiled upon the green branches of the olive, or boSfed wittf rice to make a pilau. Seated on the ground, about this repast, we tore our victuals to pieces with our fingers, and when the uieaf was finished, we went to the first brook to wash our beards and bands. Such is now-a-days the mode of travelling in the coùn^ try of Alcibiades and Aspasia.

It was still dark when we left Modon. I fancied myself wan- dering among the wilds of America; here was the same solitude,*^ the same silence. We passed through woods of olive trees, pro- ceeding in a southerly direction. At day break, we found our- selves on the level summits of the most dreary hills that I ever' beheld. For two hours we continued our route over these eleva- ted plains, which being ploughed up by the torrents^ resembled forsaken fallows, interspersed with the sea-rush and bijshes of d species of briar. Large bulbs of the mountain lily, tiprootc^dr by the rains, appeared here and there on the surface of the' ground. We descried the sea to the east, through a thinly- sown, wood of olives. We then descended into a valley, where we? saw some fields of barley and cotton. We crossed the bed of a*l^or- rent, now dried up ; it was full of rose laurels, and agnus-castilks } a shrub with a long, pale, narrow leaf, whose purple and sorav- what woolly flower, shoots out nearly in the form of a spindi<>. • I mention these two shrubs because they are met with over att Greece, and are almg^t the only decorations of those solitudesV once so rich and gay, now so naked and dreary. Now I am upotf the subject of this drjr torrent, I shall observe that in the native* country of the Ilissus, the Alpheus, and the £rymanthus, I have seen but three rivers whose urns were not exhausted; thescv^ were the Pamisus, the Ccphisu?, and the Eurotas. I must also' beg pardon for the kinrl of indifference, and almost of impiety^ with whiv h I sh?ll s^^.iaetiiaes write the moat celebrated and the moat ham» nicî .: unfi^p-. In Greece, aman becomes familiar-, ized, in :;..;e of Mnisclf, with Themiâtocles, Epaminondas, So-

IfièTFT, AMD BAtttJLlT. 4ft

ylMideB, PktOy and Thucjdîdes, and k requivea profound dero^ tkm not to pass Citœrony Msnalos, or Lycœon, as he would oi* iGnaiy hills.

On leavitig the vallej whkh I have just métitioned, we began lo ascend freah mountains. My guide several times repeated to me names which I had never heard ; but, to judge from their po* aition, these mountains must form part of the chain of Mount Temathea« We soon entered a wood of olive-treesi rose-laurels^ 9gnus-castuB, and comell-trees. This wood was overlooked l^ rugged hills. Having reached the top of these, we beheld the gulf of Messenia, skirted on all sides by mountains, among which, the Ithome, was distinguished by its insulated situation, and the Taygetus by his two pointed peaks. I saluted these famous mountains with all the fine verses that ^ ^oew, in their praise.

A little below the summit of Temathea, as we descended t<^ wards Coron, we perceived a wretched Greek farm-house, thv inhabitants of which fled on our approach. As we proceeded» we discovered below us, the road and harbour of Coron, in whick we saw several ships at anchor: the fleet of the captaûn-pacha lay on the other side of the gulf towards Calamate. On reaching the plain, which lies at the foot of the mountains, and extends to the- tea, we h ft on our right a village, In the middle of which stoo^ a kind of fortified castle ; the whole, that b to say, both the vil- lage and the castle were in a manner surrounded by an immense Turkish cemetery, covered with cypresses of all ages. My guide^ pointing to these trees, called them Parissos. One of the ancient Inhabitants of Messenia would have related to me tiie whole his- tory of the young man of Amyclse, only half the name of which is pres/erved by the Messenian of the present day, but this name, disfigured as it is, pronounced on the spot, within sig^t of a cy- press, and of the summit of Taygetus, afforded me a pleasure which the poet will comprehend. I had one consolation in be- holding the tombs of the Turks; they showed me tliat the barba- rian conquerors of Greece had also found their end in this couu^ try, which they have ravaged. In other respects, these tombs were a pleasing object The rose4aurel there grew at the foot of the cypresses, which resembled large, black obelisks; white turtle-doves and blue pigeons fluttered- and cooed among their Kranches: the grass waved about the amall funeral columns

19 T1UVEI.9. IS^ ^^XX,Çt, TAU^fTUiBf

^jrownejd wkh i^iturban; and a fountaiQ built bj a sherif poOretf Us watep into the road, for the benefit of the traveller. Faiç would I have lingered awhile in this cemetery^ where the lau- rels of Greece, overtopped by the cypress of the Eaat, seem tq f^ew the memory of the two nations whose ashes repose in this spot. • .

. From this cemetery to Corpn, is nearly two hours^ journey. We proceeded through an uninterrupted wood of olives ; the^ ipace between the trees being sown with wheat, which was hoîf eut down. The ground, which,at a distance has the appearance of a level plain, is intersected by rough and deep ravines. M^ Vial^ then the French consul at Coron, received me with Uial hospitality for which the consuls, of the Levant are soremarkac ble. 1 delivered to him one of the letters of recommeudalion to the French consuls, which M. de Taleyrand had, at the request of M. d'Hanterive, politely fui-nifihed me with.

M. Vial had the goodness to lodge me in his house. He dis-» missed my janissary from Mo don, and gave me one of his owi^ jjanissaries to travel with me through the Morea; and to conduct me to Athens. The captain-pacha being at war with the Ma; inottes, I could not proceed to. Sparta by way of Calamate, which you may take, if you please, for Calalliion, Cardamyle, or Tha- l<imœ, on the coast of Laconia, almost opposite to Coron. It was therefore determined that I should make a long circuit ; that I should endeavour to find the defile of the gates of Leondari, one of the Hermaeums of Messenia ; that I should proceed to Tripo- lizza to obtain from the pacha of the Morea, the firman necessary for pa^^sing tlic isthmus ; that I should return from Tripolizza ta Sparta, and thence go by the mountain road to Argos, Mycenœ, and Corinth.

Coronc, like I\Ies£ene and Megalopolis, is not a place of very liigh' antiquity, since it was founded by Epaminondas on the ruins of the ancient Epea. Coron has hitherto been taken for the ancient Corone, agreeable to tlie opinion .of D'^.uvilie. Gi tills point I have some doubts^ Accortiiug to Fausanlasi Coioro was situated at the foot of Mount Tcmatliia, near tiie in >uui cf the Pamisus: Coron, on the -contrary, is at a conside i t/lf» «î-s- tancc from that river; it stands on an eminence, neany in the position hi winch the same Fausanias, places the ttmple cf


Apûfla Coiinfhiifi, or mther in the posttioii of (folehidéé.* At the bottom of the galph of Mesaenia, on the aea-ahore, yoa meet with rains which may be the remains of the ancient Corone, un- less they belong to the village of Ino. Coronelli is mistaken in «ippofting Coron to be the ancient Pedasns, which accor^g te 6trabo and Pausaniaa, must be sought in Méthooe.

Thé modem history of Goron very closely resembles that of Modon. Coron was alternately in the possession Of the Vene- tians, the Genoese, and the Turks, and at the same periods ai^ the latter place. The Spaniards besieged and took tt from the Infidels in 1635. The knights of Malta distinguished themr Belves at this siege, which was of some note. On this subject, Tertot has fallen into an extraordinary error, as he supposes Coron to be Cheronœa, the birth-place of Plutarch, which is not, any more than the other, the Cheronœa where PliiHp enslaved Greece. Having again fallen under the dominion of the Torks, Coron was once more besieged, and taken by Morosini, in 1685. At this siege were two of my countrymen. Coronelli mentions only the eomnlander de la Tour, who there fell gloriously ; but Oiacomo Dlcdo speaks also of the marquis de Coniiion. I was pleased to find at my outset the traces of French honour in the genuine country of gloty — in the country of a people who were 0uch good judges of valoun . But where are not such traces to be discovered? At Constantinople, at Rhodes, m Syria, in Egypt, at Carthage, I was shown the camp of the French, aie tower of the French, the castle of the French. The Arab has pointed out to mc the tombs of our sotdlers beneath the sycamores of Cairo, and the Siminole under the oaks of Florida*

It was also in this same town of Coron that M. de Choiscuf began his splendid collection of views.f Thus chance conduct* ed me to the same spot where my countrymen had earned the double wreath of talents and of arms, with which Greece de- lighted id crown her sons. If I have myself run without glory, but not without honour, the two careers in which the citizens of Athens a|id of Sparta acquired such high renown, I am con- soled by the reflection, that other Frenchmen have proved mor^ fortonate than I.

  • This is also the opinion of M. de ChoiseQl.

t For his Vo^a^e pittwreapie éU la Grcfp.



M. Thti took the trouble to show me Coron, ^rlnoh is'biit m heep of modern ruins : he also pointed out to me the spot frrai* which the RusaiaiiB cannonaded tiie town, in 1770, a fatal' e|iodti for the Morea, whoee population has nnce been swept away b^ the massacres of the Albanians. The narratiTe of PeUegan'a: traveis is dated from 1715 to 1719 : according to that writer, the territory of Goron then comprehended eighty villages ; I am doiib^ fui if fire or six could now be found within the same distriet: The rest of this devastated tract belongs to Tnrics, who pessese- three or four thousand olive-trees, and who consume the patriaso*.. ny of Aristomenes in a harem at Constantinople. Tears started into my eyes, on observing the hands of the Greek slave steep* ed, to no purpose, in that oil wliich nerved the arms of hisftire» - fathers, to triumph over tyrants. j^:

The consuPs house overlooked the Oiilf of Coron. From my window I beheld the sea of Messenia, painted with the most lieautiful azure: on the other side of that sea, rose the lofty, chais of the snow-capped Taygetus, which Polybius justly oomkv pares to the Alps, but to the Alps beneath a more lovely sky. On my right extended the open sea, and on my left, at the ex-'. tremity of the Gulf, I discovered Mount Ithome^ detached like Vesuvius, which it also resembled in its truncated summit I had not power to force myself from* this spectacle : what reflec- tions are excited by the prospect of tiie desert coasts of Greece,* where nought is heard but the etonal whistling of the wind, and the roaring of the billows ! The report of guns, fired from time to time against the rocks of the Mainottes, alone interrupted these dismal sounds, by a sound still more dismal ; and nothing was toi be seen opon this whole extent of sea, but the fleet of this chief of the, barbarians. It reminded me of those American pvatesi^' who hoisted their bloody flâ^ in an unknown region, and took possesion of ^ enehanting/sountry ; in the name of slavery and death ; or rather fancy transformed them into the ships of Alaric» quitting the smoking ruias of Greece, carrying ofl* the plunder of the temples, tlie trophies of Olympia, and the broken statues of Sberty and the acts.

On the 12tlt, at two in the morning, I quitted Coron, over-- whelmed with the civilities and attentions of M. Vial who gave pie a letter for the pacha of the Morea,.and aff othcir for a Turk «t

IBiiink I enriiarked, with Joseph «nd my new Jaidinary» in % •tafiTy winch was to convey me to the month of the Paimisas, at Ike bottom of the Chilf of Messema. A fine passage of a few JMini, e«iied m into the bed of the largest rirer of the Pélopon- nèse, where our little baric grounded for want <^ water. The jan* iasary went in quel»t of horses, to Nisû, a considerable village, three or lowr miles up the Pamisus» This river was covered with a multitude of wild fowl, and I amused myself with watching their epaits till the return of the janissary. Nothing would be so pleas- ing as natural history, if it were always connected with the histo- ry of man: we should with delight behold the migratory birds quittiilg the unknown tribes of the Atlantic to visit the renown- ed banks of the Cephisus and the Eurotas. Provid^iee, in order to confound our vanity, has permitted the animals to know before man the real eittent of the abode of man ; and an Ameri- can inrd might {probably attract the attention of Aristotle in the rivers of Greece, when the philosopher had not the sUghtcet sos- piaion of the existence of a new world. Antiquity would furnish us jn its annals with numberless curious approximations ; the pro- gress of nations and of armies would be found connected with the pilgrimages of some soFttary bird, or with the peaceful migrations of the antelope or the camel. ^

The janissary returned with a guide and five horses; two for thegoide and three others for me, Joseph, and himself. We passed through Nissi, which seems not to have been known in ancient times. I saw the waywode for a naoment ; he was a young and very affable Greek, who offered me confectionary and wine ; but I declined hb hospitality and pursued my route to Tripolizza.

We directed our course towards Mount ithome, leaving the nuns of Messene on our right The abbé Fourmont, who visited these mins seventy years ago, counted tiiirty-eight towers tlien standing. I think M. Vial informed me that nine of these jet remsùned entire, together with a conûderable fragment of the exterior wall. M. Poucqueville who travelled through Messenia ten years before me, was not at Messene. We arrived about three in the afternoon at the foot of Ithome, the modem Mount Videano, according to D'Anville. I was convinced, by an exam- ination of this mountain, how ^fifficult it is thoroughly to under* Itand the ancient writers without having seen the places of which


abcy trè&t. It is evident, for instance» that Messenè aiîd €^ie an* cient Ithomo could not cothpriae the mountain within their limits^ and (hat we ought to adopt the signification assigned to thé Greek particle ti^i by M. Lechevalier, who, on occasion of the puniiif of Hector by Achilles, observe, that it ought to be rendered tejbre Troy, and not round Troy.

We passed through several villages, Chafasa, Scala, Cyp&- rissa, and several others recently destroyed by the pacha, during his last expedition against the banditti. In all these villages I observed but one female ; with her blue eyes, her majestic sta- ture, and her beauty, she was no disgrace to the blood of th<i Beraclides. Messenia was almost inyariably unfortutiate: a fer* tile country frequently proves a baleful boon to its inhabitants. From the desolation which reigned around me, it might h^vé been supposed that the ferocious Spartans iiad again been rav- aging the native land of Aristoden^ius. A great man under- took to avenge a great man : Epaminondas reared the walls oJT Messene. Unfortunatdy this town* may be charged with the death of Philopœmen. The Arcadians revenged it, and remov- ed the ashes of their countryman to Megalopolis. I passed with my little caravan over precisely the same roads as the funeral procession of the last of the Greeks had done about two thousand years ago.

Having skirted Mount Ilhome, we crossed a brook which runs to the north, and may, posûbly, be one of tlie sources of the Balyra. I hare never defied the Muses; they have not struck me blind like Thamyris ; and if I have a lyre, I have not thrown it into the Balyra, at the risk of being transformed after my death into a niglitingale. I mean yet to pay my devotion to the Nine for a few years longer ; after which I shall forsake their altars. Anacreons' crown of roses has no attractions for me ; the fairest crown of an old man is his silver hair and the recollections of an honourable life.

Andania must have been lower dmvn on the Balyra. I should have rejoiced in the discovery at least of tlie site of tlie palace of Merope ; but Andania was too far out of our track to think of looking for its ruins. An uneven plain, covered like the savan- 100 of Florida, witli Ion? ^ss, and droves of horses, conducted me to thç extrcjnify of the basin, formed by the junction of Ch#

io% ippmitaiiia of Ârcs^dia and Li^QBia. I^ycaon w^ before Us» but a little to the left, and we wer^ probably treading the soil of S[tcnyplarus. There I heard not Tyrt^eus singing at the head of ^e battalions of Spartaj but in bis stçad I met at this place with ^ Turk mounted 911 a good horse^ apd attended by two Greeks on foot. Perceiving me to be a F^nk by my dress^ he rode np fo mçy saying in French: "A pretty country forsooth is this Morea for travelling! In France, from Paris to Marseilles, I fi)unâ beds and inns every where. I am excessively fatigued : I fiave come from Coron by land, and am going to licondari. Tq what place are you bound ?'*—" To .Tripoli^za," was my reply* •* Well then," rejoined the Turk, " We will proceed together to the kan of the gates, but I am shockingly fiettigued, my dear Mr.**' This courteous Turk was a. merchant of Coron, whp £ad been in France, from Marseilles to Paris and from Paris back to Marseilles,*

It was dark when we arrived at the entrance of the defile, oQ the confines of Messenia, Arcadia, and Laconia. Two parallel ranges 6t mountains form this hermfiBum» which opens from north to south. The road gradually rises on the Messcnian side, and ^oee down again by a very gentle descent towards Laconia. This is, perhaps, the hermseum where^ according to Pausanxas, Orestes, haunted by the first apparition of the £umenides, bit oS one of his fingers.

Our caravan soon entered this narrow passage. We marched & silence and in file.f This road, notwithstanding the summary mode of administering justice adopted by the pacha, was unsafe, and we held ourselves in readiness for whatever might happen* At midnight we arrived at the kan, situated in the midst of a defile. The sound of runmng water and a large tree announced this pious foundation of a servant of Mahomet In Turkey all the public institutions owe their existence to private individuals; Ûïb state performs nothing for the stafe. These institutions are the efiect of a spirit of religion, and not of the love of country, a sentiment unknown there. Now it is worthy of remark, that all

  • K. is remarkable, thftt M. PoueqnevUlc met nearly ftt the same place with »

Tnrk vho «poke Frcnich. Perbupa it was the same man.

•f I lcQ9w. not.whethier this is th» same hermsum at M. PoacqneviMe and bit eompaaiODtin misfortune {yViM in on^inr; fmm NayariQ« 

these fouBtaii», all these kans, all these bridges, are of iheeaiiieal times of the empire, and are lalUiig into ruin : I cannot recolleet haTing observed one single modem fabric upon the road. Henee we cannot but infer, that the religious fervour of tlie Mussulmans is abating, and that with religion the social order of the Turk» draws near to its dissolution.

We entered the kan through a stable: a ladder in the forpoi of a leversed pyramid, led us into a dusty loft Thç Turkish merchant threw himself upon a mat, exclaiming; ^' And this is the best kaa in the Morea! From Paris to Marseilles I found beds eveiy where." I strove to cheer his spirits, by offering him half of the supper which I had brought from Oorou. " Ah ! my clear •ir," cried he, *' I am so fatigued, that I am ready to die." He then groaned, grasped his beard, and wiped his forehead vrith a shawl, repeatedly ejaculating: '< Allah! All|h!" He neverthelesa ate with a good appetite the portion of the supper which he had at first refused.

Quitting this good fellow* at day-break on tlie 131h, I con^ tinued my journey. Our progress was very slow: instead of the janissary of Modon, who seemed bent on riding his horse to death, I had one of a very different disposition. My new guard was a very meagre little man, much marked with the, small-pox,, «peaking low and deliberately, and so flill of the dignity of his turban, that you would have taken him for some upstart favourite of fortune. So grave a personage was not disposed to gallop^ except when the importance of the occasion required ; as for instance, when Jie perceived any passenger coming. The irreverence with which I interrupted thv* order of march, some- times running before, at others to the rights or left, aiui in any direction where I thought I discovered any vestiges of antiquity, was highly displeasing to him, but he durst not complain. In other respects, I found him trusty, and very disinterested, for a Turk.

Another circumstance likewise contributed to retard our progress. The velvet in which Joseph was dressed in the dog*

  • TMt mani half Turk «id half Greek, at M. Fauvel has since inrormed me,

k always travelUog about. He has not tiie best of obaracters, on acooutttol* < aome traniactiops, faighl/ wlTtSUseeuls to hnweUi relating to Che ef^pmont off- «nsrny.


  • ^y«*ôf fite Morea, made him extremely uncomfortable. At the

least motion of the horse, he clung to the saddle ; his hat dropped on one side, his pistols on the other ; these were to be picked up^ %nd poor Joseph to be set to rights again upon his horse. His excellent temper shone with new lustre in the midst of allJiia troubles, and his good humour was absolutely unalterable.

Thus we were three tedious hours in clearing the herihieum, which in this part, strongly resembles the passage of the Appen- nines between Perouse and Tami. We entered a cultivated pidn which emends to Leondari* We were now in Arcadia and on the frontiers of Laconia.

ft is generally admitted, notwithstanding the opinion of D'An* vHIe, that Leondari is not Megalopolis. It is asserted that the former is the ancient Leuctra, of Laconia and in this conjec- ture M. Barbie du Bocage coincides. Where then is Megal- opolis? Perhaps at the village of Sinano. To satisfy myself on this subject I should have been obliged to go out of my way, and to Undertake researches foreign to the object of my jour- ney. Besides, Megalopolis, Which is not celebrated for any memorable action, or for any master-piece of the arts, could fiot have tempted my curiosity, except as a monument of the genius of Epaminondas, and the birth-place of Philopœmea and Polybius.

Leaving Leondari, a quite modem to^vn on the right, we ]|(as3ed through a wood of aged evergreen oaks, the venerable remains of a sacred forest. A prodigious vulture perched on the top o( a dead tree seemed still to be waiting there for the passing of an augur. We beheld the sun rise on mount Bo: reon, at the foot of which we alighted to climb a road cut in the rock. Roads of this kind were denominated ladder roads in Ar- cadia.

I was not able to discover in the Morea either any Greek roads or Roman ways. Turkish causeways two feet and an half broad, caxry you over low and marshy spots« As there is not a single wheel carriage in this part of the Péloponnèse^ these causeways ara aoffieient for the asses*of .the peasants add the horses of the Boldieiy. Nevertheless Pailsanias and Peutinger's map lay down serersl rontdsin ttw districts' through which I passed, especially in



the vleliHlyofUraffliftnea. Berber ha» followed tkem Tery JM»- ratelj in his Roads of the Stmpire.*

We found onrselvcs in the neigbbouriiood of one of the source» of the Alphœus; I eagerly measured with my eye the ravine» that we came to: all were silent and dry. The road leading from Boreon to Tripolizza, first crosses desert plains and the* abrapfly descends into a long stony valley. The sun scorched U3. From some thinly scattered and parched bushes were suspended grasshoppers which were silent at our approach, but renewed their chirping aa soon as we had passed. No- thing was to be heard but this monotonous sound, the tram- pling of our horses, and the plaintive notes of our guide. When a Greek postillion mounts his horse, he begins a song, wWch he continues till the end of the journey. It almost always consisiB of a long story in rhyme, with which the descendants of Linns beguile the tedious hours.' The stanzas are numerous, the tunc melancholy, and very much Eke the airs of our old French ballads. One in particular, which must be very common, for 1 heard it aB the way from Coron to Athens remmded me & a striking manner of the sOng :

Mob conir eWiaé de n chaiae. Sec,

Were these tunes introduced into the Morea by the Vene^ iians? or did the French, exceUmg in the ballad, happen to chime in with the genius of the Greeks? Are these tunes an- cient? If they be, do they belong to the second school of music among the Greeks, or owe their origin to the Olympic ages? These questions I leave to the decision of more competent judges than myself. But I can stili fancy that I hear Ihe songs of my unfortunate guides, in the night, in the day-time, at sun- nae, at sun-set, in the solitudes of Arcadia, on the banks of the Eurotas, in the deserts of Argos, of Corinth and of Megara, places where the voice of the Menades no longer resounds^ where the concerts of the Muses have ceased, where the wretch-

• Pculingera map cannot be erroneous at least in regard to the existence of the roads, since they are marked in that curions monument, which is notliing but a book of the roAds ai the aneienta. The difficulty lies only in the calculation of the distances, and especially with reference to Gaul where the abréviation Ug, may sometimes be taken for le^a or le^^io.

surrr J» akd b asmu» fi

Mttaimk seems oBljrIo deplece in4otofiil bMbs tfae-aalaiiiitlss of Us country.

'*" seliperiti

^ Castere Anades»* . .

, Three leagues from Tripolizza we met two officers of thfi pacha's guards, who were travelling post like myself. They were belabouring the horses and the postillion with whips of fiUAOcero^ skin. They stopped when they saw me, and asked fog lay arms, which I refused to give them. The janissary de« 

^ ^red Joseph to tell me their only motive was curiosity, and that I jmlght demand their arms if I pleased. On this condition |

j^Hgreed to gratify the spahis : we exchanged arms ; they examined

fB^. pistols for a considerable time^ and at last discharged them over my head.

. I had been caujtioned never to put op with the jokes of a T^w^j if I would not expose myself to n thousand insults- I

,^ave since found, at various times the yery great utility of this advice : a Turk becomes, as tractable if he sees that you are not afraid of him, as he is insolent if he perceives that you are. I should, however, have had no peed of such a caution ou this occasion ; the joke seemed to be carried too far for me not to lesent it Clappmg spurs to my (lorse, I rode up to the Turks, luid fired their own pistols^ so close to their faces, that Uie priming Âcorched the whiskers of the younger spahi. An explanation ensued between these officers and the janissary, whq told them that I was a Frenchman. There are no Turlfish civilities but .what they paid nie on receiving this intimation. They offered me a pipe, charged my arms, and returned them to me. { thought it right to )i:eep the advantage which they gave me, ^d merely .directc4 Joseph to foad their pistols for thein. These two hair-braiped fellows then tried to persuade me to ride ^ race with themi which { declined, and they left us. It will be secii in the sequel, that I was not the first Frenchman tliey had ever heard of, ati4 that their pacha was y^elL acquainted with my countrymen^

  • Spon could not help noticing in Greece^ a tune eiuetlr Kke that of R^meiU

leZ'Vout, belle endormie; and he tyen tinaswt ymself with composing words £ar i^ in modem Greek,

8ft TiurEL9 » ^masw» ràsmmvE^

Ad acQim^ «temiptkiD o£ TripoKasa, ttM^/capiial of Ibé. K[orea, i& giTea by M. Poucque^Ule. I bud aol y«l seena ces» p(ete]y Turkiah town: iU red jroofi^ its aiiiiAr^ts, «nd ila dcNn«i^ tberbiore stmck me ia a pleadng maaner at the first vlew. Tn- peUz2ia is, aeyertheiess, Bttuate4 in a yeij naked fMirt of the Tallejr of Tegea, and beneath one of the sumipits of the Mcnalioii, whlel| seamed to be destitute o^ trees and yerdure* My janissaij took me to a Greek, who was acquainted with M. Vial. The consul». as I have already mentioned, had given me a letter for the pa/dlia. <: The day after my arrival, being the 14th of August, I Went toUs.^ ^licellency's drogman ; 1 requested him to expedite the delivery * of my travelling firman as much as possible» and of the order necessary for passing the isthmus of Corinth. This drognum^. a joung maQ with an intelligent and subtle countenance^ anawcpoA»^ in Italian, that, in the first place, he was not well; that, in the next, the pacha bad just gone to his women; that a pacha was not to be talked to in that manner; fhat 1 must wait, and that tile French were always in a hurry.

I replied, that it was en^ out pf forni fhat I had applied for firmans, as my French pasBport sufficed for travelling in Tmrkey^ now at peace with nay country; and that, since they had not.the leisure to favour me with them, I would set off without firmans» , and without delivering the consul's letter to the pacha.

I went away, but in an hour the drogman sent for me. I found him more tractable, either judging from my tone that I was a person of consequence, or apprehensive lest I should find means to hiy my complaints before his master. He told me that he was gping to kis gretUneés^ to speak to him concerning my- business.

Accordingly, two hours afterwardsi a Tartar came to letch me, and conducted me to the residence of the pacha. His palace is a large quadrangular building of wood, with a very spacious court in the centre^i^ and galleries running round the four sides of this court 1 was directed to wait in an apfirtment,^ where I found some Greek priests and the patriarch of the Morea. These papas and tiieir patriarch talked much, and had precisely the loose and debased manners pf the Qreek courtiers in the tunes of the east- em empire. I had reason to suppose, from ^e bustle which i .<>bseryed} that a brillant reception was preparing for me: the

w&mt Am BidMUuin

idafcof tiddtwremdiqrtlkrefrmeiBtoBomeembmaM^^ Uf olûÉltos wete the wone for wear^ my boots covered with duit, mf Imr in disorder, and my beard lUce Hector's-^^or^a s^uoKda. I liad wrapped mjaelf in mjcieaki and looked more like a soldier wbo bad passed the night |n the open field, than a stranger goiqg io the levee of a gradée.

Joseph, who pretended to be an adept in eastern etiqnetteg faild forced me to put on this eloak, as he disliked my short eoat: lie insisted on attending me with the janissary , m order to do me hofioor. He accordingly walked behind me without boots^ bare-footed and bare-legged, and with a red handkerchief tied over his hat Thus handsomely equipped, he was nnluckily stoppei at aie door of the p&lace. The guards woold not suffer hbn io pA»: and I had such difficulty to reAidn from laughing, that I could not seriously protest against his exclusion. His preten- sion to the turban was the cause of his disàppdntment, and he had only a distant prospect of the honours to which he had aspired.

After two hours of tedious dela^, expectation and impatience, I was introduced into the pacha^s apartment I beheld a man, idM^f forty years old, with a handsome countenance; seated, or rather reclined on a divan, dressed, in a silk caftan, having • dagger enriched with diamonds at his girdle, and a white turban on his head. An old mad, with a long beard, respect- fully occupied a place on his right — perhaps it might be the exe- cutioner. The Greek drogman was sitting at his feet, while three pages standing, held pastils of amber, silver nippers, and fire for lighting the pipe. My janissary remained at the door of file room.

I advanced, saluted his excellency, by putting my hand on my heart, presented the consults letter,- and availing myself of the privilège enjoyed by the French, I took a seat without welt* ing to be invited. Osman inquired whence I came, whiUier I was going, and what was my business with him. I replied, that I was going on pilgrimage to Jerusalem, that on my way to the holy city of the Christians, I had visited the Morea, to see the Roman antiquities,* that I requested a travelling trman, by

' The GreeXs are calM Romotisby the Titrk j consequentlj, ifhatCTcr belong;! to aie former people, is dtetin^ikhed by the fame «ppeUttion^


means of which I might procure horses, and an order for paè- sing the isthmus. The pacha answered, that I was welcome ; that I might see whatever I pleased, and that he would grant me the firmans. He then asked if I was a military man, and If \ liad accompanied the French expedition in Egypt. This que^ tion embarrassed me, being totally ignorant with what intention it was put I replied, that I had formerly served my country, but that I had never been in Egypt. Osman immediately relieved me from my perplexity ; he frankly told me he had been taken prisoner by the French at the battle of Aboukir; that he had been extremely well treated by my countrymen, and should never forget them. ,

I had not expected the honours of coffee, and yet I obtained them ; I then complained of the insult offered to one of my atten- dants, and Osman proposed to me to order twenty strokes of the bastinado to be inflicted before my face on the delis who had . detained Joseph. This indenmity I declined, and was satisfied with the good will of the pacha, t quitted him, highly pleased with my interview : though it is true that I was obliged to pay- pretty handsomely at tlie door, for the flattering distinctions which I had received. How fortunate, if the Turks in ofSce were to employ this simplicity of manners and of justice for the benefit of the people whom they govern ! on the contrary, they are tyrants, who, tortured with the thirst of gold, without remorse spill inno- cent blood to appease it

I returned to the house of my host, preceded by my janissary, and followed by Joseph who had forgotten his disgrace : I passed near some ruins which appeared to me to be of antique construe- tion. I now awoke from a species of distraction, into which I had been thrown by the late scenes with the two Turkish officers, the drogman and the pacha; I found myself all at once, in the midst of the fields of the Tegeans : and I, a Frank, in a short coat and a large hat, had just received an audience of a Tartar, In a long robe and turban, in the heart of Greece.

M. Barbie du Bocage justly complains of the inaccuracy of our maps of the Morea, in which even the capital of that pro- vince is very often omitted. This negligence arrises from ^ change in the Turkish government in this part of Greece. There WAS formeri^ a sangiac who resided at Coron. The Morea


j^|iQg become a paohalik, the pacha has fixed hto reudenee at

Tripolizza, as a more central point. As to situation I have K|narked, that the Turks are perfectly indifferent to the beai:^ ^es of nature. In this respect they have not the delicacy of the Arabs, for whom, the charms of climate and position have ^trong allurements, and who, to this day, deplore the loss of Grenada. *

^ TrijpolizKa, however, though very obscure, is not wholly un- ,fe^wn. M. Poucqueville writes the name Tripolitza : Pellegrin apeaks of it, and calls it Trepolezza; D'Anville, Trapolizza; M.. de Choiseul, Tripolizza; and other travellers have folk)wed thia orthography. O'Anville observes that Tripolizza is not Mantinea. tit is a ntodem town, which appears to have been erected between JJiaptinea, Tegea, and Orchomenus.

A Tartar brought me in the evening my travelling firman, and and the order for passing the isthmus. The Turks, in establish- ing themselves on the ruins of Constantinople, have manifestly- retained several of the customs of the conquered nation. Ther institution oi posts in Turkey is nearly the same as that introduced Ji^y the Roman emperors : you pay for no horses ; the weight of jTOor baggage is fixed ; and wherever you go, you may insist on be^ ing gratuitously supptied with provisions. I would not avûl mj self of these magnificent but odious privileges, which press heavily oa a people unfortunate enough withoat them, but paid wherever I went for my horses and entertainment, like a traveller without protection and without firman.

Tripolizza being an absolutely modem town, I left it on the }5tb, for Sarte, which I was anxious to reach. I was obliged to retrace my steps as it were ; which would not have been the case iiad I first visited Laconia, goiri^ by way of Calamate. Proceed- ing westward, at the distance of a league from Tripolizza, we stopped to examine some ruins. They proved to be those of a Greek convent destroyed by the Albanians, at the time of the Russian expedition ; but in tlie walls of this convent may be dis^ cemed firagments of beautiful architecture, and stones covered with inscriptions worked into them. I spent a considerable time in attempting to make out one to the left of the principal door of the church. The letters were in the best style, and the inscrip- tion appeared to me to run alternately from right to left, 9nd


firom left to right: which is not alwajs an indiçafion of Ugfi ;

quity. The characters were reversed from the position of tj|ie Atone, which was split, placed very high, and partly covered wlÛ> mortar. I could decipher nothing but the word T£G£AT£^^ Wliich rejoiced me almost as much as if I bad been a member ol^ the Academy of Inscriptions. Tegea must have stood in the vicinity of this convent. In the neighbouring fields are found great numbers of medals. I bought three of a peasant, but they afforded me no light He sold them very dear ; for the;, Ctreeks have begun to learn of travellers the value of their anti*. quittes. ^

I must not forget to mention that in wandering among these ruins, I discovered a much more modern inscription. This wa% the name of M. Fauvel, written with a lead pencil upon a wn^^ None but a traveller can know what pleasure is felt on meeting;^ nncxpcctcdly, in a remote and unknown spot, with a name that.. reminds you of your country.

We continued our route in a north-western direction. After* travelling for three hours over half cultivated lands,, we entered a desert, which extends to the valley of Laconia. The dry bed of., a torrent served us for a road : we followed its windings through a.. .labyrinth of mountains of no great height, all resembling eacit other, their summits being naked, and their sides covered with a species of dwarf ever-green oak, with leaves like the holly. On the edge of this channel, and nearly in the centre of these hUh we came to a kan, overshadowed by two sycamores, and cooled by a littie fountain. We allowed some rest to our beasts, lor we had been ten hours on horseback. The only refreshment wp could meet with was goat's milk and a few almonds. We set out again before sun-set, and stopped at eleven in a narrow valley, on the bank of another channel, which retained a small quantity of water.

The road which we were pursuing, passed through no place of celebrity : it might, at most, have been traversed perhaps by the troops of Sparta when they marched to attack those of Tegea, in the early wars of Laccdaemon. There was nothing upon this road but a temple of Jupiter Scotitas, towards the passage of Her- mes ; and all these mountains together, must have formed different branches of Parnon^ Cronius, and Oltjrmptts.


V& 9iè 2(Hh at day-break, we saddled our hones. The jaiua- saiy said hh prayers, washed his elbows, his beard and his handSi tohièd towards the east, as if to suumion the light, and we set off. Jdi we approached Laconia, the mountaios began to be mortf elerated, and to exhibit a few clamps of trees: the rallies were narrow and rugged; and some of them, though upon a smaller scale, reminded me of the Grand Chartreuse, and the magnificent forests in the back-gropnd. Aï noo'n, we discovered a kan, as wretched as thftt where we stopped the preceding day, thou^ it was decorated with the Ottomanrflag. These were the only two kabitatiQn^ we had met with in a space of twenty-two leagues : ^ that fatigue and hunger obliged us to make a longer stay than was 'agreeable, in this filthy kennel. l%e master of the place, an aged TuHc, with a most repulsive countenance, was sitting in a feft above the stables of the kan ; the goats clambered up to him, and surrounded him with their excrements. In this sweet place he received us, and without condescending to rise from his dung- Uij to dh-ect some refreshment to be brought for the Christian dogs; he dbouted with a terrible voice, when a poor Greek boy, qnke naked, and his body swollen witii fever and flogging, iN^v^t U8 some ewe's milk in a vessel disgustin^y dirty. I was •bKged'to go out to dijnk even this at my ease, for the goats and their kids crowded round me to snatch a piece of biscuit whkh I held in my hand* I had eaten of the bear and the sacred dog with the savages; I have since partaken of the repast of the Be- doirîns, but I never met with any ih^g to be compared with this fint kaB of Laconia. It was nearly on the same spot however» that the flocks of Menelaus grazed, and that he entertained Tele- machns. They repaired tp the palace of the king; the atten- dants c<Hiducted the victims ; they also brought generous wine, while thehr wives, their foreheads adorned with clean fillets, pre- pared the repast."*

We left the kaji about three in the afternoon. At five, we reached an elevation of the mountains, whence we descried before as Mount Taygetus, whicli I had already seen from the opposite side^ BDsitra situated at its ibot; and the valley of

^ Odjft. Book ly.



We descended by a kind of étair-ciee eut iif tbè* fttci M^af Mount Boreon; and perceived a light bridge, of a dngle aoreh^ elegantly thrown over a small riyer, and connecting two faighMfer* On reaching the river, we forded ita limpid narrent, amoag- tafl veeds, and beautiful roee-laurels in full flower. Thi« river, whidh I thus passed without knowing its name, was the Eurotas* A tor- tuous valley opened before us, winding round several smril hllb, nearly alike in form; and having the appearance of artifidal mounds, or tumuli. We followed these wiadmgs, and at ni^t» &11 arrived at Miaitra.

M. Vial had given me a letter for one of the piinctpal Turiu of Misitra, named Ibrahim Bey. . We alighted in hiscaiirt yctd, and his slaves ushered me into the strangers' apartment, wlâefa was full of Mussulmans, travellers like myself, and IbrahfiMf» guests. I took my place among them on the divan, and iflce them, hung op my arms against the wall over my head. Joseph «nd my janissary did the same. Nobody asked me who I was, or whence I came : each continued to smoke, to «leep, or to 4miii«  verse with his neighbour, without taking the least notice of <ne« 

Our host, to whom M. Vial's letter had been carried, boob entered the room. Ibraldm, about sixty years old, had a mild and open countenance. He came to me, took me cordially by flie hand, blessed me, endeavoured to pronounce the word ban, half in French, half in Italian, and seated himself by my side. « He spoke in Greek to Joseph, desiring him to tell me that he begged I would excuse him, if he did not receive me so well ^m he could have wished; that he had a little child ill ; unfigUt^^ he repeated in Italian, and this almost turtied his head — nmfa iomar la ieaiOi said he$«-^t the same time pressing his tuitait with both his hands. I should certdniy not have gone to Sparta to look for paternal affection id all the simpliscity df nature : and yet as aged Tartar displayed this moving sentiment on theiomb of those mothers who, when delivering the shield to their sons addressed them in these words ;— ^ tàv, 4 »! t&v — eiiCker Ons -or upanihzB,

Ibrahim left me in a few minuets to go aifd attend his son^

■ He ordered a pipe and cofie to be brought me, but as it waa

past the usual hour for supper, I was obfiged to do as well as I

could without pilau, though 1 shoold have Bked it exceeiBiigly

i^^, hÊtriaf eaten lenKely any thing ibr the lait tirenty«roiir Joseph took a sausage out of his bag, and slipped a bit and then into his mouth, unperceived by the Turks : he fut^

• erelly oifered some to the jamssary, who turned av?»y with a look of mingled pity and lionror* .

• I^ made op my mind, and lay down on the divan, in a comer

mi «the room. A grated window opened upon the valley of La« 

cosiin, on which the moon threw an admirable light Leaning

on my elbow, I gassed on the sky, the valley, the summita of

TaygetuB, brilliant or sombre, according as they were in the

\M^ or shade. I could scarcely persuade myself that I was in

. the native country of Helen and Menalaus. I gave way to

'thdse reflectiona which eveiy person may make, and myself with

•nwre reasoa than many others, on the vicisigitudes of human dee-

>finy. How many places had already witnessed my slumbers,

either peaceful or perturbed! How many times by the radiance

of the same luminaries had I, in the forests of America, on the

load» ofGennany, on the moors of England, in the plains of Italy,

-«& the bosom of the ocean, indulged in the same ideas respecting

•the aiptalion» of life.

' *Aa old Turk, apparently a man of high distinction, drew

• me from these reflections to convince me in a still more sensi* , Me -manner that I was far from my country. He lay at my ieet

OB the divan: he turned, he sat up, he ^hed, be called hie slaves, he sent them away i^in, and waited for day-li^t with

• impatience. Day-li^t came (August 13): the Tartar surround- ed by his attendants, some kneeling, others standing, took off bis

• tmban, looked at himself in a bit of broken glass, combed hla beard, curied his whiskers, and nibbed his cheeks to ^ve them animation. Having thus finislied his toilet, he majestically de- parted, sfipskod, and giving me a look of infinitedisdain.

My host entered some time afterwards with his son in his arms. This poor child, sallow, and wasted with a fever, was staric naked. He had amulets and various kinds of spells hang- ing from his neck. The father set him on my knee, and I waa obliged to listcfn to the history of his iUness. The boy had taken all the bark in the Morea ; he had been bled (and this was tlie aeal disease); his mother had fastened cha^s about him, aiul

' flaeed a turban ever the tomb of aSaston, but all in vain.

M TEAVBI4 m «uses, PAIA«Tin,

. Ibrahim eon^hided with asking if I knew of aiqr reme^f. I recollected that when I was a childy I had been cured of a ferer. by the plant, little centaury ; I recommended the use of it wilk all the grayity of a professional man. But what was centawy 1 I pretended that the virtues of centaury had been discovered by a certain physician of thai neighbourhood, named Chiron, wha scampered over the mountains on horseback* A Greek' de* clared, that he had known this Chiron, who resided at Calamate» and generally rode a gray horse. We were still in consultation» ■ when we were interrupted by the entrance of a Turk» whom I knew by his green turban to be a minister of the law. He came np to UB, took the child's head between both his hands and de* Toutly pronounced a prayer : such is the character of piety ; it ia affecting, it is respectable even in the most mischievous religioaa* •

I had sent the janissary to procure horses and a guide, with the intention of first visiting Amyche, and then the ruins of Spais ta, where I supposed myself to be. While I awijted hb re- turn, Ibrahim sent me in breakiiAst in the Turkish style. I ma atiil reclined on the divan ; beside me was set an extremely Iqw table: a slave supplied me with the necessaries for washing; 9^ pullet hashed in rice was then brou^t on a wooden platter, and L helped myself with my fingers. AHer the pullet, a kind of ragool of mutton was sent up in a copper basin, and this was followed • by figs, olives, grapes, and ph^se» to which, according to Guil* let, Misitra owes its name.* Between each dish, a slave peur^ ed water over my hands, and another gave me a towel of coarse but very white cloth, i declined, from courtesy, to drink any wine ; and, after my coffee, I was offered soap for my mustaches.

During this repasti thp chief of the law bad, through the me- dium of Joseph, asked n^e several questions. He was desirous to know my motive for travelling, as I was neither a meichant nor a phyûcian. I replied, that I was travelling to see foreign nations, ^d Câpçcially the Greeks, who were dead. This produced a laugh. He replied, that as I had come to Turitey, I ou^t to. |iave learned the Turkish language. I hit upon a reason for my

  • M . Serafani hat foUoieed him in this opinion. If SparU derived iti name

from the hroomi growing m iu territorj, and not from Spartna, the md of Amy* das, or Sparte, the wife of L«ced»iaQD« that of Miiitra might certunly hsra l^een borrowed from cheese.

, barel$%iich more compréhensible to him, when I told him that t'Wtid a pilgrim going to Jerusalem. Hadgi ! had^!* exclaimed Ivè, and was perfectly satisfied. Religion is a sort of Oniversal language, understood by aO manlcind. Tills Turk was unable to cohceîre how I could quit my country from the mere motive of ènirîèâty ; but he thou^t it perfectly natural that I should under- take a long joumer with a view to offer up my prayers at a tomb, to pray to God for some blessing, or for deliverance from tome affliction. Ibrahim who when he brought his son, had ask*> e<l £F r had any children, was persuaded tliat I was gomg to Jeru- luifem for the purfiose of obtaining issue. I have seen the sa- t^ges of the new worid indifferent to my foreign manners, but aUciltiTely only, like the Tufks, to my anns and my religion, that is t^^'wf, to the two things which protect man in his spiritual and corporeal relatioixs. TTfais unanimous coincidence of all nations in tvgard to religion, And this simplicity of ideas, have appeared to Iné to b^ worthy of remark.

'Vor the rest, tiiis strangers* apartment, in which I took my repast, exhibited an impressive scene, which forcibly reminds _ toft of the ancietit manners of the East, All Ibrahim's guests were not rich^ very far from it : some even Were actually beggars, Vhey, 'nevertheless, sat upon the same divan with Turks,. who had a numerous retinbe of horses and slaves. Joseph, and my jaidssoiry, were treated Kke myself, except that they were not in- vitefd to my table. Ibrahim saluted all his guests with equal cor- éfiafity, spoke to all, and siippHed all with refreshments. Among them were mendicants iii rags, to whom the slaves respectfully carried coffee* Here we recognise thé Charitable precepts of the Koran, and the virtue of hospitality which the Turks have learned of the Arabs; but this fraternity of the turban,'8tep8 toot beyotfd the threshold of the door: for the slave who has drunk «coffee with his host, perhaps has his head cut off at his depar^ in#e, by order of this same host. I have, nevertheless, read, and been informed, that in Asia, there are still Turkish families who retain flic manners, the simplicity, and the candour of the early ages, and I believe it*; for Ibrahim is certainly one of th» most reneraUe men 1 ever met with.

  • ApUgiim! apilgrim!


> ISbe j^al^fi^fV retiiniçd ivi^ a guide, w^Q^fefnd Hftrl^lflllf BPt only for: Aaa^eUbf but also for Ai^s. . He aaifie4 f^^M^f wUdi' I' «VRP^ to give, Hie minister of the law, who iint{|f||y e^dfifi ttti^gHO, rose in a tmflnport of anger. Ha tBhi m^li^n»iji§l^ agi'iat^ipFeter, thai ekiee I. was traveUiog to study thechiiiai^ 4im of peopk^ I ought to know that. I had to d6al:W^Ui.fogiH%|j that tiiese fellows were robbing me ; that they, demaoded.a)^ «j<r liaoidimrf pn^f though I had no occasion to gi¥(^ them ipiy ëmig, «nee I was provided with a firman; and^ fiiia)J(f ,|tfvB^} waa completely tbdr dope. He then departed, bqiling l^t^i|^ iSgloation ; but I could peœeÎTe, that he was not .ao muçh.|iig{ mated by a love of justice, as shocked at my stupidity^ . .> -^ . At 'eight in the morning, I set out for AinyolaE^ npi^ Scfajj^ •horion, accompanied by my new guide, and a Greek !pif«!!VM||^ «eiy good tempeDedy but- extremely ignorant. Wç took thfç voad to the piain^at the ibo^of Taygetua, fo|lowing,^hady«an4 very agreeble by-paths, leading between gairdens irrigated by ibrewalets-which descended from the mount^n, and planted hM¥ muibeny, figr and sycaaiore trees. Wei also saw in thorn ^hWf% daace- of water*meh>BB, grapes, eiicumbçrs, and herb^ of di^BM^ ent kinds^; from the beauty of the sky, and the simikritj of ^pr^ dttce, atnivaiier nug^ imag^ iMQ^^^lf ^. bc^ M the vlcinity^of Chawibciy> We pasaed^he ISaaa^and arrived at Amy.clœ, w\iéf^ 1 SomA notfajoig but th« juins of a dosien Greek chapels,, di^n^^lp, idled by tiie Alhénîaaa;. sonie. distanpe from one an% Iber, iiBt the amidst of cultiyated fields. The temple of Àpol^o^ that #f.£urotas,.at Oaga, the.tomb pf QyacinthMs, baye all 4i»f^ p^ared* I eould npi ,i&|eoxçr a. single «inpoription^; ttioiig^^ ], aanghiwith-ciMre tiie^i^elebrated n^Cffolpgy. of the, priestesses ,ot Amyple^ wi|iek the iMié.Fpunnont oopied in 1731 or 1732, nn^ which, rppords.a aeries for iiea^^ a:thou4an4 yea^s before Chri^ Destructiona succeed eacjb odier with^uch rapidity in Gr^epe, thfi|^ ftaaqnently one tmyeller perceive^, npit the sli^test vestige of Hï^ monuments which another has admired only a few months bejCcm^ him. Whijbit I was searebing fop fragments of antique /j^ina amoai^ hçaps of modem ones, I saw a number of peasants ap». proach with a p^ia at their head. They removed a board set up against the wail of one of the chapels, and entered a sanctuary wluch I bad-ai^t yet diseovered. . I iiad the curiosity to follow

Miif^aaS foliirllthatllie poor crestares resottedivtti their ptieit lo4leée kriHET to pray ; Itey song litanies before an image of tils fUKi^te* da\ibed in red upon a wM that had beefr fuinted èitte; Ék^'Widdy diflerent was this cétéiù^^yfrùm the foitival of ^f«  ài^rttttftas! The'tripple poiâp, howerer, <^the rains of idrenily^ ■M of prayers to the true '€k>d, surpassed in my opknon, idl th«  q^fettdôra of the earth.

'< My guides ^rged me to depart, beeaiue We were on the Iroii* fiera of Am Mayaottes, who, notwithatandiog modem aiNMmnts> ate ¥ëry gre«r robbeis. We recroBsed the llasa, and r»t«imed tm Biufra by the mountain road. I shall here luftiee an error Whidb «fill creates much' confusion hi the maps of Laconic. We girt iifilicVimhtetely the mod^em name of Ms, or VasiUpotanél to W^Cotbta&. La ChdRetiere, or rather, Chi^t, cannot eonoeii^

  1. liéré Kiger picked lip this name Iris; and M. PouequeviM

ièems' to' be equally puzzled by it. ' Nigei' and Meledus, who Write ^^Néris by corruption, are not, however, totoHy wrong» 9àè EifmtaB is known at Misitra by the name of In, and not Bris, 'as fkr as its junction with the Tiasa; it tteo tahesMi» a|>petlatlon of Vasilipotaknos, which k retaiiH throughout the resi effb course.'

^'In our way ovef the mcfioHihitn, we;an4Tei aftHie iMife'off Pàrori, where we saw à large fountain, cAlIed ChieTàmo. if Mleê tJbpiotisly from the «de of a rock ; a weeping willêw shades it rfR^re; and below stands a' prodi^uspkne-t^, round whi^ ttavc^rs' seat themselres, upon mats, ta take their coffee* -fr dihriot tell whence dûs weeping willeW was brought to* Miafm;^ il tt the only one that I have seen hi €hpeece:f Oetismon opiide», f beTîëve, makes tiie aalix bai^ykmea^ a native of Asia Minor, tkough it perhaps travelled to u6 from China, throng the EtmU ^e saine may bè said of the Pyramidal poplar wilièh Lomherdy leceived from the Crimea and Georgia, aod the firniHy- of which Iks been ^scovered on the banks of aie Bftaeaissippi, above the Bbois.

fireat numbers of marbles have been broken and buried in tiie' Ticunty of the foiintam of Parori: several haf« inscriptions^ the

• The An holy, the Virgin Mary,

1 1 un not Bure, however, that I have nof seen aome others in the ^rden of ^ 4|is ef llanpoti di RGin«nl% at the bottom of t)ie gtilf of A^got.


HiJt/tn and 'words of vrhich may be dbtinguithed. Wiâi tîtae MA money, some diecoTeriea might possibly be made in this plaee ; llioagh it is probable that most of these inscriptions were copied by the abbé Fourmont, who ooUected no fewer than Uiree hum ^d and fifty m Liicoma and Messenia. , Keeping along the side of Taygetas, about midway betweeo the summit and its base, we came to a second fountain called Panthalama, which derives its name from the stone whence tiio water issues. On this stone is seen a piece of (Atique sculp- ture, badly executed, representing three nymphs dancing willl garlaads. Lastly, we found a third fountain, named Tritsella, above which is a grotto that contains nothing remarkable.* Yon may if you please, take one of these three fountains for the Doiv eia of the ancients ; but then it would be situated at far too graii| a distance from Sparta.^

At the fountain of Tritsella we found ourselves behind MIsitra, and almost at the foot of the ruined castle which commands thf town. It stands on the summit of a rock of nearly a pyramidal , form. Alighting from our horses, we ascended on foot to th0 castle, through the Jews' suburb, which winds spirally round the rock to the base of the castle. This suburb was totally de«  ttroyed by the Albanians ; the walls alone are standing, and through the apertures of the doors and windows you still percdve traced of the flames whieh consumed these ancient retreats of wretch- edness. Children, as mischievous, as the Spartans from whom they are descended, lurk in these ruins, lying in wait for thé traveller, and, at the moment he is passing, tumble fragmenta of walls, and masses of rocks down upon him. I narrowly es^ caped falling a victim to these Lacedaemonian amusements.

The gothic caatle which crowns this scene of desolation ia itself falling to- ruin : from the dilapidation of the battlements, the cracks in the arches, and the mouths of cisterns, you cannot walk there without danger. It has neither doors, nor guards', nor guns; but you are amply compensated for the trouble you have taken to climb to the top of this buildmg, by the vie^ whieh you there enjoy.

Beneath you, on the left, is tlie destroyed part of Misitra^

  • A|. Scrofaoi mcatioDS these foun^aim«.

flM K ftB '«w»* «iibttrb» which 1 hav« aiealiioti^d «bof e* At the extremity of thii subarh, you «perceive the archiepi»co|M4 ohHrch of St DiHiitri, asrrouiided by a group of Greek hoiisea nith gsrdena. At your feet lies the quarter oalled KAt^chocion» or the town below the castle. Beyond SatochorioB* i& Ueao^ •honon, middle town» which contain» extenÛTe gardens, and Turfcish honaee painted green a|id red. Here you perceive alao, baaarsy kam, and mosQuest

On the light» at the foot of Taygetos, you aee in aucceraon the three villages through which I hud passed : Tritsella, Pan* tfaalamai and Parori.

From the town itself issue two streams, jphe first is call- ad, Hebijopotamos, Jews' river» and runs between Katochoriov IqmI Afesochorion. The other is named Panthalama, after the fountain of the Njnnphs, from which it springs. These two streams, over which there is a small bridge» have authorised fiuiUetière to set them down for the Eurotas and the bridga 9ahyx» under the generic name of Gepkuros^ which» in my opinioo«  he ought to have written Qephurci. At Mc^ula» these two rivu- lets eoi\)ointly discharge thipselves into the river of Magoula» tbe ancient Cnaeion» which is itself soon lost in the Eurotas.

Surveyed from the castle of Hf isitra» the valley H>f Laooma Is truly admirable. It extends nearly from north to south» is bor- dered on the west by Taygetus» and on the east by mounts Thor- nax, Barosfhenes, Olympus» and Menelaion: small hills obstruct ébe nothem extremity of the valtey» descend to the • south» di* Vanishing in height, and terminate in the eminences on which Sparta is seated. From Sparta to the sea, stretches a level and fertile plain watered by the Eurotas,

. Here then, was I mounted on one of the battlements of the castle of Misitra, exploring, contemplaâng» and admiring La- conia. But methinks I hear the reader inquire; when will you speak of Sparta / Where are the ruins of that city ? Are they comprised within Misitra? Are no traces of them remaining? Why did you run away to Amy clœ before you had exasiined eve* ry comer of Lacedœmon? You merely i^ention the name of the Eurotas without pointing out its course, without describinc its banks. How broad is it? Of what colour are its waters? Where ^re its swans^ its reeds, its laurels; The mhiutest parliculan

Wight io l»e féAited when yen are trelititig of tliéMl^Piifciifrf Lyetirgas, of Agis, of LyBsnder, of Leoitidas. Mtéry ht4j^^tÊà Been Athens, but very few traTellera hare peaéknMHâ'ûlhA Sparta : none of them haye completelj described its rdiliB^ ^iilf the very site of that renowned city h problematîcaL ^

I should long sinoe hare satisfied the reader, had I not; àt thé ▼ery moment when he eqnes me on the top of the eastle of Bfisl* tra, been asking myself all the questions whkh he has just put to raei^

Those who have read the Introduetfon. to tiiese Trti?elS| wtt have seen that i spared no pains to obtain all the infomis^' lion possible relative to Sparta. I have traced -tiie hiiCoiy dP that city from th^ Romans till the present day ; I have mentiotted llie travellers and the books that have treated of modem La«ed8B^ mon, but unfortunately their accounts are so vague, tli«l they have g^en rise to two contradictory opinons. Accoréhig to father Pacifieo, C3oroneHi, Aie romancing Guillet» and those who^ taftve followed th«n, Mi«tra is built on the ruins of Sparta: and* aOGording to 6pon, Vernon, the abbé Fourmont, Leroi, anC B'Anville, the ruins of Sparta aije at a considerable distaaée from Misitra. Hence it is evideft, that the best authcNntie»' adopt the latter opmion. D^Anviile in partieular is précise awl^ seems to scout the contrary notion : ^ The place,'^ says hè ^ oe> copied by this city, (Sparta) is called Paleoehori, or the old' town : the new town, under the name of Misttra which is «rtone-* ously confounded with Sparta, Hes at a distance firom it towarda^ the west."* Spon, contesting the pohit against La Otnlietièro/ midies use of expressions equally strong on the authority of - Vernon and' the eonsid Giraud. The abbé Pourmont, who dia* covered so many inscriptions at Sparta, could not be mistriteB' ÎD regard to the-site of that city : we have not Indeed tiie result of hia observations ; but Leroi, who recognised the theatre and ther dromos, coukl ttot have been ignorant of the true sitoation ef ^ Spasta. The best geogiaphical works, following these greats authorities, have been earefol to apprise the reader, that lfiii«< trais by BO means the ancient Lacedœmon. There are even- some who fix with tolerable acèuracy the distance between t^ ^WQ placesi which they state to be about two leagues.

f Qecisr, dflac. ^kré^^. torn. L p. 9ra

.^Wm^W-bÊn a BtiOiAig instaiioe «C te. dUkid^ of nato» l«lg JmEh wiie^ an error bia once taken loet. In apite of Spon» IS^mrnffBAf l«rol,jaid D'AnTÎIle, ike generality of people bave MPtimied to loojc upon Ubâifa as the ancient Sparta, and myself among the reat. «Two modeni traTellera, Scroftini and Poucque- ^^9 contiiliuted to imiefeaâ iae« I had not taken notice, that t)ie; fatter» when he describes Misitra as the repreaentatire of I^pedfl^niQii, merely repeats the notions of the inhabitants of the ^fHBOtxf^ ^iMiout giving any opinion of his ownv On the con- tvary, be e^en seems to incline towards the sentiments adopted 1^ the best astfaorittes ; whence I conclude thaf M. PouequeviUe, WhA is mscurate in regard to every thing that he had an opportu- lity of «eeing bknsel^ waa deceived by what had t»een t^d hini «PMeavii^ Sparta.*

' 'PegHiaded, therefore» by an «rror of my early stndies, fliat miBitra was Sparta, I b^an with the «xcorsion to Amyche, wiâi § view to Jnish, first, with alLthat was not Lacednmon, so that I fdght aiterwards bestow on the latter my midivided attentioB. J«i4gs-^en of my embarrassment, when, from the top of the eaatle of Qfisitra, I p^rsiated i^ the attempt to diseoTer tiie city ^v^Lycnrgi», in a town absolutely modem, whose architeetvre edubited nothing bu^ a confused mixture of the Oriental man* neir, and of the Gotbio, Greek, and Italian styles, without one peof little antique ruin to make amenda. Had but ancient Spar- l%I8Ee aueieat Rome, raised her disfigured head. from amidst these new and incongruoua monuments ! But no-^Sparta was orerthrown in the dust, buried in the .tomb of ages, trodden un- derfoot by Tudu, dead,' and net a veatige of her eimtenee Mt Wiiind!

.Sttek were now my reflections. My cicerone scarcely knew a liiw woids of Italian and Bngliah. To make hka understand me tkss better, I attempted some sentences in modem Greek; I Mawled with a pencil a few words of ancient GnA ; I tatted IfMtaai aaé Engfish, and jmnbled French ak>ng with them aH.^ Jotoph endeavoured to eiqilain, but he only encreased the con-

"^'tte CTen asserts positively, that Misitra does not stand on the site of Sparta i bat aflervards comés ronnd again to the ideas of the iahaUtants of the taaa/bry. It is obfioas, that the author wavers eontinaally between the fgnat «nthorities vhich he waa acqiudnVed with, siul the goaip of mmdc ignonat Greek»

4f| ffciiivAs » «ts£cf£y #AiisiTiife^

fiuion ; the janlssaTy and the gnide (a kind of half negro lew, j gave their opimon in Turkish, and made matters still worse. — We all spoke at once, we bawled, we gesticulated ; with our diflerent dresses, languages, and physiognomy, we looked like An assembly of demons, perched, at sunset, on the summit o^ these ruins. The woods and cascades of Taygetns were behind us, Laconia was at our feet, and over our heads the most love'^ Bky.

This Misitra, said I to the cicerone, is Lacedsmon; i& il tiot.^

Sigttor? Lacedœmont What did you say? — rejoined he;

ts not this Lacedœmon or Sparta ?

Sparta? What do you mean?

I ask yoii if I^sitra is Sparta ?

I don't understand you. /

What, you a Greek, you a Lacedieinomah, And not know the name of Sparta?

Sparta ? Oh yes ! Great republic ; celebrated Lycurgus^

Is Misitra then Lacedsmon ?

The Greek nodded in affirmation I was overjoyed.

Now, I resumed, explain to me what I see. What part of thé town is that ? I pointed at the same time to the quarter before me a little to the right.

Mesochorion, answered he.

That I know perfectly well; but what part of Lacedcemod was it?

Lacedsemon ? I don't know.

I was beside myself.

At least show me the river, cried I, and repeated : Potamosj iPotamos.

My Greek pointed to the stream called the Jews' River.

What! is that the Eurotas? Impossible! Tell me where is th6 VasiHpotamos ?

The cicerone after many gestures, pointed to the right towards Amyclœ.

I was once more involved in all my perplexities. I pronoun- ted the name of In, on which my Spartan pointed to the left^ in ihe opposite direction to Âmyclœ.


. It was natural to conclude from this, ibat Hiere were two rivers; the one. on the right, the VasilipotamoB» the other on the lefty the In; and that neither of these riyers flowed through Micitra. The read^r has seen from the explanation which I have already given of these two names» what occasioned ny mistake.

Bujt then, said I to myself, where can be the. Eurotas ? It is clear that it does not pass through Misitra. Misitra therefore is |iot Sparta, unless the river has changed its course and removed to a distance from the town, which is by no means probable* Where» then, is Sparta ? Have I come so far without being able to discover it ? Must I return without beholding its ruins ? I was heartily vexed. As I was going down from the castle, the Greek exclakned : ^' Your lordship perhaps means PaI»ochori4^ At the mention of this name, I recollected the passage of D'Anvilie, and eried out in my turn : " Yes, Palsochori ! The old city ! Where is that? Where is Palseochori ?" *' Yonder, at Magoula;" said the cicerone, pointing to a white cottage with some trees about it, at a considerable distance in the valley.

Tears came into my eyes jvhen I fixed them on this miserable hut,- erected on the forsaken site of one of the most renowned cities of the universe, now the only object that marks the spot where Sparta flourished, the solitary habitation of a goatherd whose whole wealth consists in the grass that grows upon the graves of Agis and Leonidas.

Without waiting to see or to hear any thing more, I hastily descended from the castle, in spite of the calls of my guides, who wanted to show me modern ruins and tell me stories, of agas and pachas and cadis and waywodes ; but passing the residence of the archbishop, I found some papas, who were waiting* at the door for the Frenchman, and invited me to enter in the name of the prelate.

Though I would most cheerfully have dispensed with tliis civility, I knew not how to decline the invitation: I therefore went in* * The archbishop was seated in the midst of his clergy, in a very clean apartment, furnished with mats and cushions after the Turkish manner. All these papas and their superior were intelligent and affable. Many of them understood Italian and could speak the language fluentlv. 1 related to them in what

P '


l^efpleidty I Iiad be«ii invblred, in regard to the niiiis ^f flpitas they laughed and ridicoled the cicerone, and seemed to me t» be touch accustomed to foreigners.

The Morca in fact swarms wifSi Lerantines, Prairies^ Ragii^ sans, ItaBiins, and pardcvtariy with yomig physieiaiis, from Ye*- nice and the Ionian islands, who repair hither to despatch tlw cadis and àgas. The roads are rery safe: yon find tolerably ^ood living, and enjoy a great deal of liberty, provided yon pov sess a little firmness and prudence. It is upon the whole, a very easy tour, especialTy for a man who has tired among the sarages of America. There are always some Englishmen to be met with oh the roads of the Péloponnèse; the papas informed mè that they had lately seen some antiqnaries and officers of thtti nation. At Misftra, there is even a Ghreek honse called the Emg^ fish Inn, Where you may eat ro«|t beef, and drink Port wine, fas thia particular, tiie traveller is under great obligations to the Eng- lish : it is they who have established good inns all oVer Europe, in Italy, in SwitzeriMid, in (rermany, in Spain, at Constantinople, at Athens, nay, even at the very gates of Sparta, in despite of Lycurgus.

The archbtshop knew tbe Fretich Trce-consQl at Athens, and I think he told me that M. Pauvel had been Ins gnest in the two or three excursions which he has made to MiBltra. After I h^d taken coffee, I Was shown the archbishop's palnee and the church. The latter, though it cuts ft great figure in our booka of geography, contains nothing remarkable. The Mosaic work of the pavement is common, and the pietores extolled by Gnlllet, absolutely ^semble the daubings of tbe school that preceded Perugino. As to the architecture, nothing is to be seen bvt domes more or less (filapidated, and more or less numeroos. This cathedral, dedicated to St. Dimitri^ and not to the Virgi» Mary, as some have asserted, has for its share •trtm of tfiesa domes. Since this ornament was employed at Constantinople, in the decline of the art, it has been introduced In alf the momunentn of Greece. It has neither the boldhess of tbe Golhie, nor the simple beauty of the antique. When of vety large dimensions, it is certainly majestic, but then it crushes the structure which it adorns: when small, it is a paltry cap that blends irith no other member of the aFchitectnre, and rises abct^e the entablature

E«rf T, AND SA&SAar. tA

fbriha eipiess purpose of breaJdiig th^ banuomous line of tte ogte.

I obserred in the archiépiscopal library, aome Ireatiâea of the Oree^ iathere^ books on controversial subjects, and two or three Bysandne historians, among the rest Pachymeres. It .might be worHi while to ^olhite the text of tiiis manuscript, with the text» wldcb we possi^ss : but it must d^ubtiess hare been exMr mined by our two great Grecians, the abbé Fourmont, and i'Anaae de YUloison* The Venetians, whp were long masters of the Morea* probably carried off the most yalMabie nMyDU* acRpta.*

My hosts officiously showed me printed translations of some French works; such as Telemachus» RoUin, and some modern books printed at Bucharest Among these translations I durst not say that I found Attala; if M* Stamati had not also done me the honour to impart to my savage the language of Homer. The translation which I saw at Hisitra was not finished: the transla* tmr was a Greek, a native of Zante, who happened to be at Ve- nice, when Atala appeared there in Italian, and from this version he began his in vulgar Greek. I know not whether I concealed my name from pride or modesty; but my petty fame of author- ship was flo higfaily gratified to find itself beside the brilliant gloiy «rfLacedsfimon, that the archbishop's porter had reason to praise my liberality— a kind of tiberality of which I have since re- pmted.

it WIS dark when I left the residence of the archbbhop : we traversed the most popnfous part of Misitra, and passed through «he basar, asserted in several descriptions to be the Agora of the «Bcients, under the idea that Misitra is Lacedœmon» This bazar is a wretched maiket place, resembling those which are to be -seen ui our small provincial towns. Paltry shops, shawls, merce- iy,and eatables, oecopy its streets. These shops were tlien lifted by lamps of Italian manufacture. Two Mainottes were pointed e«t to me selling, by the Kght of these lamps, cuttle-fish and the tpecÎBB of marine polypus, distinguished at Naples by the name €^fruiUdi nuare. '[Hiese fishermen, who were tall and stout, looked like peasants of Franche Comté: I observed in then» nothing extraordinary. I purchaseçl of them a dog of Taygetus :


be was of middling use, with a yellow, Bhaggy coat| veiy nostrilB) and a fierce look.

Fulvas LacoQy ^

Amiea vli pastoribat.

I called him ArgUB, the same name which U^^ses gave to hiA* dog. Unluckily I lost lam a few days afterwards in the joumey from Argos to Corinth.

We met several women wrapped in their long garments: w«w turned aside to give them the way, in compliance with a customr originating rather in jealousy than politeness. I oould not difrr cem their faces; so that I knew not whether Homer's epithet .o£ K<tAxi>uvai«a celebrated for fair women, be yet applicable ta 8))arta.

I returned to Ibrahim's, after |n excursion of thhrteen hours, during which I had taken but a few moments' rest. Not only can I easily bear fatigue, heat, and hunger, but I have observed, thai - a strong emotion protects me from weariness and gives me new strength. I am besides convinced, and perhaps more than ai^ other person, that an inflexible determination surmounts eveiy- difficulty and even triumphs over time. I detennined not to lie down, to employ the night in taking notes, to proceed the next- day to the ruins of Sparta, and then continue my journey without returning to Misitra.

I took leave of Ibrahim; ordered Joseph and the guide to pro- ceed, with their horses, along the road towards Argos^.and to wait for me at the bridge of the Eurotas which we had already passed in our way to Tripolizza* I kept tlie janissary only to aceomr pany me to the ruins of Sparta, and could I have dispensed wiHi his services I would have gone afone to Magoula; for I had ex* perienced how much you are harassed in the researches you are desirous of making by your attendants who grow tired and im» patient. >

Having made these arrangements, on the 18th, half an hone, before day-light, I mounted my horse with the jamssaiy, and having given something to the slaves of the kind Ibrahim, I set off at full gallop for Lacedœmon.

We had proceeded at that pace for an hour along a. road rvatL fling direct aouth-west, when at brefJi of day, I perceived somft

«erVT, AND HXltÈXKf. 101

r ané a long vrM of antique construction : my beart began to palpitate. The janissary turning towards me pointed with hia whip to a whitish cottage on the right, and exclaimed with a look of satisfaction, ^ Palœochôri !" I made up towards the principal min which I perceived upon an eminence. On turning this emi- nence by the north-west for the purpose of ascending it, I was suddenly struck with the dight of a vast ruin of semicircular form which I instantly recognized as an ancient theatre. I am not able to discribe the confused feelings which overpowered me. The MH at the foot of which I stood, was consequently the hill of the eitadel of 8parta, since the theatre was contiguous to the citadel ; the ruin which I beheld upon that hill was of course the temple •f Minerva Ohalciœcoâ, since that temple was in the citadel, and tile fragments of the long wall which I had passed lower down must have formed part of the quarter of the Cynosuri, since that quarter was to the north of the city. Sparta was then before me ; and its theatre to which my good fortune conducted me on my iirst arrival, gave me immediately the positions of all the quarteps and edifices. I alighted, and ran all the way up the hill of the citadel.

Just as I reached the top, the sun was rising behind the hills of Manelaion. What a magnificent spectacle f but how melancholy ! The solitary stream of the Eurotas running beneath the remains of the bridge Babyx ; ruins on every side, and not a creature to be seen among t^em. I stood motionless, in a kind of stupor, at the contemplation of this scene. A mixture of admiration and grief, checked the current of my thoughts and fixed me to the spot^ profound silence reigned around me. Determined, at least, to nudce echo speak in a spot where the human voice is no longer heard, I shouted with all my might, ^ Leonidas ! Leonidas !" No min repeated this great name, and Sparta herself seemed to have forgotten her hero.

If ruins to which brilfiant recollections are attached, demon- strate the vanify of all terrestrial things, it muet however, be ad- mitted, that names which survive empires, and immortalize ages and places, are not an empty sound. After all, glory should not be too mach slighted ; for what is fairer, unless it be virtue ? Tbo hiçhest degree of ff^idty would be to qnltc them both in this life^

109 TAÀV£UI np^«B£CCS, PâliBiTIKC,

«nd sueh wfts the pnrport of the ovAy prayer «likla the Bjpttitmm eddreœed to the goda ; tUjmkkra bonù addereni!

When my agitation had snbsided, I began to stady the nniia aroond me. The summit of the hill was a platfonn encompaaie^ especially to the north-west by thick walls. I went twice round k, and counted one ttioaaand five hundred and sixty, and one thousand five hundred and ûxty six ordinaiy paces; or nea^ •even hundred and eighty geometrical paces; but it should be remarkedi that, in this circuit I comprehend the whole summit at ttie hill, including the curve formed by the excavation of the theatre in this hill. It was this theatre that Leroi examined^

Some ruins partly buried in the ground, and partly rising above the surfiM^e, bdicate, nearly in the centre of this platform, the foundations of the temple of Minerva Chalcicecos,* wherefU-^ sanias in vain sought refuge and lost his life. Â sort of flin^ ef steps, seventy feet wide, and of an extremely gentle descent, leads from the south aide of the hill down to the 'plain. This was periiaps the way that conducted to the citadel, which was not a place of any great strength till the time of the tyrants of Laeedœmon.

At the commencement of these steps, and above the theatre, I eaw a small edifice of a circular form, three fourths destroyed: the niches within it seem equally well adapted for the reception of statues or of urns. Is it a tomb ? Is it the temirie of the armed Venus ? the latter must have stood nearly on thb spot and belong- ed to the quarter of the Egides. Cesar who boasted of being descended from Venus, had the figure of the wmed Venus en- graved on his ring : it was in fact, the two-fold emblem of the weakness and glory of that great man.

If the reader will place himself with me upon the hill of the citadel, he will then have a view of the following objects around him:

To the east, that is, towards the Eurotas, a hill of an oblong form and levelled at the top, as if for the purpose of a race*

  • GhaloioBeos, ngnifies a house oHinsa, We nratt not however take the text

of Pauaanias and Plutareh in a literal sense, and imagine that this temple vaa entirely of brass. Those writers only mean to say, that it was lined with brass iatemally and perhaps externally. I hope too, that nobody will eonfound the two Psuaaniases mentioaed here, the one in the text and the other in the i

tùUÊé f/f Uppodrame. Two oflier luDs, one on etoh bUo of that just mentioned^ form wifli it two hoUowv, in which yon per» eeifte the niiiiBof the bridge Babfx, and tte cnrrent of the Eo- totas. Befond the river, 4he view is bounded bj a chain <^ red* dish hilh which compose mount MeneHon. Beyond these hiBs, the high mountains which border the golf of Argos, tower aloft in the dbtance.

In âùs space, seen to the eastward, between the citadel an4 tte Eurotas, looldng north and sooth bf east, in a parallel direo* tion to the course of the river, we must place die quarter of the limnates, the temple of Lycurgus, tiie palace of icing Dama* ratos^ the quarters of the Egides and the Messoates, one of the Lescbi, the mimument of Cadmus, the temples of Hercules and HaRn, and the PlatanistiB. In this extensive space I counted seven ruins standing, and above ground, but absolute^ ^apdesa and dUapidated. As I was at liberty to choose, I gave to one of these ruins the name of Helen's Temple, and another I called the Tomb of Alcman. In two others I fancied I beheld fbe heroie monuments of JEgeus and Cadmus ; I thus determined in favour of faMe, and assigned nothing to history but the temple of Lycur- gUB. I prefer, I must confess, to black broth and barley bread» ïàe memory of the only poet that LacitdsBmon has produced, and ftie garland of flowers gathered by the Spartan maidens for Helen tatheisleofPkitanistie.

O ubi caropi «-

Sperehiasqtie et Tirginibas baediata Lacenis Taygetot

Now looking towards the north, as you still stand on the site of the citadel, yon see a hill of considerable height, commanding even that on which the citadel was erected, thou^ âiis contra- cts the text of Pausanias. The valley formed by these two hills must have been the site of the public place and the structures that adorn it, as the buildings appropriated to the meetings of the déroutes and Ephori, the portico of the Persice and other edi«  ftces. On this side there are no ruins. To the north west ex- tended the quarter of the Cynosuri, by which I had entered Bparta, and where I observed the long' wall and some otbrr re-


Let US BOW tura to the west, and we shall percrive a|»OH 4 level spot in the rear and at the foot of the theatre, three ruins f one of which is of considerable height, and circular like a tow^ cr. In this direction must haye lain the quarter of the Fita^ nates, the Theomelis, Uie tombs of Pausanias and Leonidas, the Lesche of the Crotanes, and the temple of Diana Isonu

Lastly, if you turn your eye to the south, you will see an un«> even space, intersected here and there by the bases of walls that have been razed to the ground. The stones of which they weea composed, must have been removed, for they are not to be dis^ covered any where round about In this part stood the resi- dence of Menelaus ; and beyond it, on the road towards AmycliB, fose the temple of the Dioscuri and of the Graces. This de- scription will be rendered more intelligible, if the reader will turn to Pausanias, or merely to the travels of Anacharsis.

The whole site of Lacedsmon is uncultivated — the sun parches it in silence, and is incessantly consuming the marble of the tombs. When I beheld this desert, not a plant adorned the ruins, not a bird, not an insect, not a creature eiriivened them^ aave millions of lizards, which crawled without noise up and down, the sides of the scorching walls, A dozen half wild horses were feeding here and there upon the withered grass ; à shep- herd was cultivating a few water-melons in a comer of the the#> tre ; and, atMagoula, which gives its dismal name to Lacedsemon, I observed a small grove of cypresses. . But this Magoula iar- merly a considerable Turicish village, has also perished in this scene of desolation ; its buildings are overthrowii, and the index of ruins is itself but a ruin.

I descended from the citadel, and, after walking about a quar- ter of an hour, I reached the Eurotas. Its appearance was nearly the same as two leagues higher, where I had passed it, witliout knowing what stream it was. Its breadth before Sparta, is about the same as that of the Marne above Gharenton. The bed of the river, nearly dry in snnmier, is a sand intermixed with smaH pebbles, overgrown with reeds and Yose-laurels, among which run a few. rills of a cool and limpid water. I drank of it abundantly, for I was parched with thirst From the beauty of its reeds the Eurotas certainly deserves the epithet »«Ax«/«v<tç, given it by Euripides; but I know net whether it ought t^ retain that of okh

9^t9^ibt IpetteiveA no bwwib upoAits Bintee. I fi^lowed ïtM CQimt, hoping to meet with «orne of tibeie hirds which, accoid- iif^ to PkktOy hare» before ,they expire, a Tiew of Olympiis, on which nceonnt their àjmg notes are so melodious; but I was diiappoiAted. Perhaps^ like Horace, I am not in the good graces of l^i^darides, and they would not permit me to discoTer the se- crets of their cradle.

Famous rivers share the same fate as famoas nations; at first ■nlDDQwn,ihen celebrated throu^out theVhole world, thejr af- Cenvwds sink into their oii^^nai obscurity. The Èurotas, at first denoonnated Himera, now flows forgotten under the appellation of Ifi ; as the Tiber, more anciently Albula, now rolls to the sea the mknown waters of the Teyerone. 1 examined the ruins of Ump bridge Babyx, which are insignificant. I sought the island, of FlatamstflB, and ima^e that I discoyered it below Magoula z it is a {nece of ground, of a triangular form^ one side of which is washed by the Eurotas, while the other two are bounded by ditch* esfiiH of rushes, where in winter flows the river Magoula, the ancient Onacion. In this island are some mulberry-trees and sycamores, but no plantaîas. I perceived no incfication that the Torks still continue to make this spot subservient to pleasure ; I observed there a few flowers, among others blue lilies, some of which I plucked in memcnry of Helen : the perishable crown of the beauty yet e:dsts on the banks of the Eurotas, and the beaut j herself has disappeared.

The view eigoyed, as you walk alonç the Eurotas, is very different from that commanded by the hill of the citadel. The river pursues a winding course, concealing itself, as t have ob- served, among reeds and rose-laurels, as large as trees, on the left side, the hiUs of I^ount Menelaion^ of a bare and reddish appearance, ifbrm a contrast with the freshness and verdure of the channel of the Eurotas. On the right, the Taygetus spreads Ms magnificent curtain; the whole i^ace comprehended between Uns cinrtain and the rivei', is occupied by sinall hiilâ, and the nt. ins of Sparta. These hills and these ruins have not the same desolate aspect as when yon are close to them ; they seem, on the oontraiy, to be tiuged with purple, violet, and a light gold folonr. It is not verdant meads ^and foliage of a cold and uni^ isan^grMn; bnt the effects of ligbi, that prodœè admirable

106 TAAViU Iff cmxccsy MLEsrmE,

Jkudseafiel. Ob dite account the TaAs and ihe headiB <^ A«  bky of Naples iHII ever bis Bupertor in beauty to the most fertile ^ateb of Draiteë and ËogiaDd

ThfTB, aA^r ages of bblivioA, thb river, wfaoae banks werv froâden by tbe LacedKuioniatre whom Plutarch has celebrated, Hûs rftet, T say, pethaps rejoiced, amid this neglect, at the sound of the footsteps of sa Obscure strasiger upon its shores. It was on the 18th of August, 1808, at nine in the morzung, that I took this lonely walk along the Eurotas, wliich will never be erased from my memory. If I hate the manners of the Spartans, I am not bBnd to the greatness of a free people, neither Was it with* dut èmodott ÛStâ t trampled on their ndble dust Otoe single fact js suftdent to proclaim the glory of this^nation. When Nero Visited Greece, he^ duifet not enter Lace^mon. Whata magnifi- eent panegyric okt thatjeity !

' T returned to the dtadd, stopping to survey aie mhis which I met wtth on my way. As Misitra has probably beeu built with teateiials from the rubis of Bparta, this has ondoubtedly contri» bnted much to Ûie destructioii of the edifices of the latter dty. tfoiAid my companion exactly where I left him; he had sat down, and Adieu asleep ; having just awoke» he was smoking hi» l^ipe, after which he went to sleep again. The horses were peac^ fulfy grastng in the palace of king Menelans; but Belen had not left he^ distaff laden with wool, dyed of a purple colour^ ta l^e'them pure com in a magidficent manger.^'* Thus, though a traveller, I am not the son of Ufysses ; bat yet, like Telema- .ehusy'Iprefer my native rocks to the most enchanting foreign -regions.

It was nooii, and the sun darted his rays perpendicularly on bur heads» We retired to the shade in v comer of the theatre, and ate with a good appetite some bread and dried figs, wliich we had brought from Misitra: Joseph had taken cai-e of all the i>est of our provisions. The janissary was delighted ; be thpuglit himself once more at liberty ; and was preparing to starts butsooA perceived^ to his no^small morliiication, that he was mistaken. % began to write down my observations, and to* take a view of tîîé different places ; this occupied me two full hours ; after wb;ch, I detenttined to examine the monuments to the Tvcst of the cita<leL

I lai«tr, tkàt, in thia gu^rter, tlie tomb of Leoi4d«a, moit ^f pica- ll»d.| We wandered from niia to niin ; the janivsaiy following me, and leading the hordes by the bridle* We were the only Ufing Imnazi beings among svch numbers of illustrloiis dead ; bo|b of OS were barbarians, strangers to each other, as irell as to Greece ; aprung from the forests of Gaul, and the rocks of Caucasus, we had met at the extremiify of the Pdopopmese, the one to pass' over, the other to live upon tombs, which were not those of pur forefathers.

In Tain I examined the- smallest stones to discover thç spol where thé ashes of Leooidas were deposited. For a momeAt, | had hopes of succeeding. Near the edifice, reseii^iUng /s tower, which I hare described as standing to th^ west of the ci^d4, I found fragments of scnlptiire, which I took to be tho^e of a lion^ We are informed by Herodotus, tbat there waa a Uoa of stone on the tomb of lieonidas ; a circumstance, which is ^ot recorded by Fausanias. I continued my resi^archfs with incr^ayed ardour, but all my efforts proved fruitless.* 1 know not wbçijth^ th^ wap âi^ €q;>ot where the abbé Foormont difMsorered Um^^ cnijpua monuments. One of them was a cippvs, on whîoh wa» ei^ayaii the name of Jerusalem ; perhaps a meffoorial of that aJUajoce h^» tween the Jews and the Lacedssmoaians, which i» m^Jf^W^. hi the Maccabees. The two other», were the sepulchral UnPPp^om cf Lysander and Agesilaus. I shall observe that, jto my ce^itiy- men, Europe is indebted for the first ^aji6facV>ry aocouptji of t(i^ ruins of Sparta and\4thens«f Oeshayes, wbo waa aept to ^arsk

  • On t1û« talhiett mj memory deeeived me. The fisn gpokea of hf Ifagod»

«OS wM tt ThermvpylB. It is not even related bj fthst biitorian tlàitt tbt Inmws of LeonidM were earned to hU nstive land; ke anerls, «p the fontrary, ^hat Xerxes caated the hoàj <of the hero t» ^e omeified : ^onaeqaently the fragment! tf the lion, which I aaw at Sparta, canaoC mark the tomh of t«onldaa. It may be rappoied that I had nejt an Herodotus in my bandi on the liiins of La|DedBBmo0; learriod with me from home» noUiing hot |taelne« TsiiO^ Vw^a» nà iiomeis the latter intcrieaved for the purpose of writing DOtos- It ofMUiot* therefore, appear snrprisog that» beiog obliged to draw upon the reioorcesof my memoir» I mtj have been wrong in regard to the phiee, witliout, however, bemg mistaken rcspectii^ the tact Two ij«atepigi«SBSonthiaslwelioo» aiTfaeimopybB»ma|r be seen in thie Anthoktgy.

t On die fttl^ct of AthoM» we have eertaioly the twolet^ra from the eollee- tioD of Martin GcMss» written in tSff^ ; hot pototiiy do they eontain aoaraely any kformatit^, hut they wjere written by 6)reeK"i natives of the Morea, and »on^*

talem by Louis XIII. passed through Athens about the year 1629 f we possess his travels, with which Chandler was not acquainted.' In 1672, father Babin, a Jesuit, published his relation of the Pft^ sent State of tht City of Athens. This relation wa» ecfited hf Spon, before that honest an^^^enious traveller had commenced his tours with Wheeler. The abbé Fourmont and Leroi» were èie first that threw a ste^y light upon Laconia ; though it is true, that Vernon had visited' Sparta, before them : but nothing of hie^ was published except â sin^e letter, in which he merely mentions^ that he had seen Lacedsemon, without entering into any details. As for me, I know not whether my researches win be transmit- ted to posterity ; but, at least, I have joined my name to that of fiparta, which can alone rescue it from oblivion ; I have fixed th^ site of that celebrated city ; I have. If I may so express myself/ rediscovered all these immortal ruins. A humble fisherman, in consequence of shipwreck, or rather accident, often determines tile position of rocks, which had escaped the observation of the most skilful pilot

There were at Sparta, a great number of altars and statuesf dedicated to Sleep, to Death, to Beauty (Venus Morpho) drrinl- lies of all mankind ; and tor Fear armed, jirobably that, with which the Lacedœmonîans inspired their enemies. Not a vestige of these is now left, but I perceived upon a kind of socle, these four letters aaxm. Could they have formed part of the word rE* AA2MA? Could ads have been the pedestal of the statue of Laughter, which Lycurgus erected amiong the grave descendants of Hercules ? The altar of Laughter existing akme in the midst of entombed Sparta, would famish a ûdr subject of triumph fn: the philosophy of Bemociitus.

Night drew on apace, when I reluctantly quitted these renown- ed nuns, the shade of Lycorgus, tte recollection of Thermo- pylse, and all the fictionB of fable and histoiy. The sun sank behind the Taygetus, so that 1 had beheld him commence, and (nish his course, on the ruins of LiMsedœmon* It was three thou- aand fi^^ bundred andforty-thr^e years, smce lie first rose and

qaeotly are not the fruit of the researches of modem trayellers. Spon likewise mentions the manoseript in the Bairberini IJbnxj at Bome, whidi is dated tiro liandred years anterior to lik travela, vui in wUoh he foand some drawiasi of Athens.


set OT^ fUs infant city. I departed ^rith a mind abeorbed by tbe objects which I had just seen, and indu^g in endiesB re«  tections. Such dajs enabie a man to endure many misfortunea with patience, and above all, render him indifferent to many spectacles.

We pursued the course of the Eurotas for an hour and a half, through the open country, and then I'ell into the road to Tripo- Hssa. Joseph and the guide, had encampspd on the other side of the river, near the bridge, and had made a fire of reeds, in spite of Apollo, who was consoled by the sighing of these reeds for the loss of Diq^hne. Joseph was abundantly provided with ne* eessaries; he had salt, oil, water-melons, bread, and meat. He dressed a leg of mutton like the companion of Achilles, and served it up on the comer of a large stone, with wine from the vineyard of Ulysses, and the water of the Eurotas. I made aii| excellent supper, having just that requisite which Dioi^sius wanted to reUsh the black broth of Iiacedœmon.

After supper, Joseph brought me my saddle, which usually lierved me for a pillow ; I wrapped myself in my cloak, and lay down under a laurel, on the bank of the Eurotas. The nigjlit was so pure and so serene, and the Milky Way shed such a light, reflected by the current of the 'river, that you might see to read by it I fell asleep, with my eyes fixed on the heavens, haviqg the beautiful constellation of Leda's siyan exactly over my head. I still recollect the pleasure which I formerly received from thu4 reposiag in the woods of America, and especially from awaking in the middle of the night. I listened to the whistling of the wind through the wilderness ; the braying of the does .and sta^; aie roar of a distant cataract ; while the embers of my half-exUiir ginshed fire, glowed beneath the foliage of the trees. I loved even to hear the voice of the Iroquois, when he shouted in the fecesses of his forests, and when, in the brilliant star-light, amid the silence of nature, he seemed to be proclaiming his unbounded fiberty. All this may afford delight at twenty ; because, then life suffices, in a manner, for itself^ and there is in charily youth, a cer- tain restlessness and inquietude, which incessantly encourago the creation of chimœras, iprisibi somniajbtgunt : but inmaturcr age, the mind contracts a rdish lor n^ore solid pursuits, and loves, in paiticular, to dwell on the illustrious examples recorclr

lid T&Aveii8 ur «EEEee» WÂU^vmK^

ed in histoiy* Gladly would I again make my coucb on ihe1»aiikji of the Eiirotas, or the Jordan, if the heroic shades of thft three hundred Spartans, or the twelve sons of Jacob, were to TÎdt my slumbers ; but I would not go again to explore a rir^ ^11, which the plough-share has jiever lacerated. Giye me now andent deserts, where I can conjure up at pleasure the walls of Babylon, or the legi<Mi8of Pharsalia— ^ojufôaoJMX; pbûns whose furrows convey instruqjtion, and where, mortal as 1 am, I trace the blood, the tears, the sweat of human kind»

Joseph awoke me, according to my directions, at three in the morning of the 19th. We saddled our horses and set off. I turned my head towards Sparta, and cast a farewell look on the Eorotas : I was unable to check that sensation of melancholy, which wiM intrude itself when we are surveying a grand ruin, and leaving places, which we shall never more behold.

The road leading from Laconia into the country of Argos | was in ancient Umes, as at the present day. One of the wildest and most rugged in Greece. For some time we pursued the way to Tripolizza; then turning to the east, we descended into the defiles of the mountains. We proceeded at a rapid rate in the ravines, and under trees which obliged us to lie down upon our horses necks. From one of the branches of these trees, I received so violent a blow on the head, that I was thrown sense* less to the distance of ten paces. As my horse gallopped on, my fellow travellers, who happened to be before me, did not imme«  diately perceive my accident ; their cries, when they tinned back lo mc, roused me from my swoon.

At four in the morning we reached the summit of a mountain, where we allowed our horses a little rest The cold became so intense, that we were obliged to kindle a fire of heath. I cannot assign a name to this place, of little note in antic]|uitf ; but, it must be situated near the sources of the Lasnus, in the chain of Mount Eva, and not far from Prasîœ, on the gulf of Argos.

At noon, we arrived at a considerable village, named St Paul, Tery near the seiu The only topic of Conversation among its in- habitants, was a tragical evept, of the particulars of which they were anxious to inform us.

A girl of this village having lost her father and mother, and being the mistress of a small fortune, was sent by her refetioiis


fas Coi9taiiiiiiO|»Ie. At the age of eî^teçn she retained io her na- tive Tillage. She could speak the Turkish, French, and Italiad i^ngoages; and when aaj foreigners passed through St Paul, she ceceired them with a politeness which excited suspkions of her virtue. The principal peasants had a meeting, in which, after fiscnssing among themselves the conduct of the orphan, they resolved to get rid of a female whom they deemed a disgrace to the village. They first raised the sum, fixed hy the Turkish iaw, for the murder of a christian woman ; they then broke by Vght into the house of the devoted victim whom they murdered ; ttd a man, who was in ivivting for news of the executicm, hasten- ed to the pacha with the price of blood. What caused such an extniordinaiy sensation among all these Greeks of St. Paul, was not the atipcity of the deed, but the greediness of the pacha of tlie Morea. He too, regarded the action as a very simple matter, and admitted that he had been paid the sum reqinred for an ordi- nary murder ; but observed, that the beauty, the youth, the ac^ coaipUshments of the orphan, gave him a just claim to a father mdemnity. He, therefore, despatched two jani^saries the veiy same day to demand an additional contribution.

The village of St. Paul is an agreeable place. It is supplied with water by fountains, shaded with wild pines, pinus sflvesiris. We here found one of those Italian doctors who are dispersed afi over the Morea: I had him to bleed me. I tasted some ex- cellent milk in a very clean houae, very much resembling m Swiss cottage. A young native of the Morea, seated himself op- posite to me : he looked like Meleager both in person and dress. The Greek peasants are not attired like the Levantine Greeks, who are to be seen in France. They wear a tunic which reaches to their knees, and is fastened by a girdle ; their wide trowsers are covered by the skirts of this tunic ; and they cross upon thei^ bare legs, the strings which tie tibeir sandals. With the exceptloik of the covering for the head, they are absolutely the ancient Greeks wittiout cloak.

My new companion, seated as I have said, opposite to me,, welched al^ my motions with extreme curiosity. He kept hi» eyes fixed on me without uttering a word ; and even bent forwarJ la look into thf earthen vessel^ out of which I was eatmg my milkr I rose and he rose too; I sat down agjain,. and he did the


Mune. I presented faim with a x^igar ; he was delisted, and made fiign=^ for me to smoke with him. On mj departure he ran after jue tor half an hour, without ever speaking, and without my be* ing able to discover what he wanted. I gave him money, but he Oirew it away: the janissary would have driven him back, on which he prepared to fight the janissary. I was affected I knew not why ; perhaps from observing, that I, a civilized barbariax)^ was an object of curiosity to a barbarized Greek.*

Having procured fresh horses, we left St. Paul at two in the afternoon, and pursaed the road towards the ancient Cynuria. About four, our guide called out that we x^ere going to be attack- ed ; we indeed perceived, on the mountain, a few armed n^en, who, after looking at us for some time, suffered us to pass unmo- lested. We entered among the Parthenian hills and descended to the bank of a river, whose channel conducted us to the sea* We descried the citadel of Ai^os, Naupli opposite to us^ and the mount^s of Corinth towards Mycenie. From the spot which we had now reached, it was still three hours journey to Argosi we had to turn the extremity of the gulf, and cross the marsh of Leme, which extended from the place where we stood to the city. We passed the garden of an aga, where I remarked Lombardy poplars intermixed with cypress, orange, lemon, and many other trees which I had not yet seen m Greece. The guide soon after- wards missed the way, and led us along narrow causeways, which formed the separation, between small ponds and inundated rice- fields. In this embarrassing situation night overtook us : at eveiy Btep we were obliged to leap wide ditches, with our horses intim- idated with the darkness, the croaking of a host of frogs, and the ▼iolet CQloured flames that danced along the marsh. Our guide's horse fell ; and as we marched in a row, we tumbled one over another into a ditch. We all cried out together, so that none of us knew> what the others said. The water was deep enough for .the horses to swim, and be drowned with their riders; my punc- ture began to bleed afresh, and my head was very painful. At length we miraculously scrambled out of this slough, but found it impossible to proceed to Argos. We perceived between the

  • The Greeks of these moantaint pretend to be the gemdne deMendanti tf

the LacedsmoDians. They assert, that the M«3i|0t)et m InU SQ «HCBtbh^ of Cvreiga baadittii and tbej we perfectly right

idèêèê ft i^Jimmeriiig Ught: vre made op tawmtàà it, penshing Mtii cold, covered with mad, leading our horaeB by the bridle, and nuining the rifik of plunging at erery Btep into aome fresb quagmire.

. THe light guided us to a farm-house, situated in the midst of ihe marsh, in the vicim^ of thé Tillage of Lernte. It was just harvest-time, and we found the reapers lying on the ground. They started up at our approach and fled like deer. We conTin*^ ced them that they had nothing to fear, and passed the rest of the night with them on a heap of sheep's dung, which was less filthy and less damp than any other situation we could find, t ahoold hare a right to quarrel with Hercules, who has not com- pletely destroyed the Lemaean hydra ; for, in tfiis unwholesome place, I caught a fever which never entirely left me till after my arrival in ïlgTpt-

On the 20tfa, at day fereilk, I was at Argos; The village wMch has succeeded that celebrated city is neater and more lively than most of the villages of the Morea. Its situation Is very beaatiful, at the extremity of tiie gulf of Naupli or Argos, a league and a half from the sea: on one side it has the mountains of Cynttria and Arcadia, and on tiie other the heights of Troesene and EpidauruB.

Bat Whether my ipa^nation was oppressed by the recollec- tion of the nusfortunes and the excesses of the Pelopides; or I was struck by the real truth, the country appeared to me uncultivated and desolate, the mountains naked and dreary — a kind of nature, fertile in great crimes and in great virtues. I went to survey what are called the remains of Agamemnon's Palace, the ruins of a the- atre, and of a Roman aqueduct ; I went up to the citadel soll- dtous to see every stone that could possibly have been touched by the hand of Ihe king of kings. What can boast of enjoying any glory besides those fiimilies, sung by Homer^ ^schylus, So- phocles, Euripides, and Racine t but when you see on the spot Where they flourished how very little remains of those families, yon are marvellously astonishedi

It is a considerable time since tiie ruins of Ar^s ceased to correspond with the greatness of its name. In 1756, Chandler found âiem absolutely in the same state as they were seen by me; the abbé Fourmont in 1746, and Pellegrln in 1719, were


m TKAvnu» mcancBy FAiinrrnitf»

not moie firateulew Hie YeaetiaiiB in imrliciikr, bliTe odnbr liiitedtotlwdrattlilwiiofUieBtoBiiii)e«ts.of (hÎB^, by uaipe ttflir nwfatMifaln like comtmeCkm of thé casfte of Palami^ la llie tÙDe of Païuniiias, there was at Argos, a statue of Jupitei, venaricaUe for having thiee eyes, and still more remarkable on •■other aeeonnt: it was brought from Troy by Stfaaaelus, and was said to he the very statue, at the foot of which, Priam was pntto death in his palace by the son of Achilles:

Ingens ara fuît, joxtaque TeternniA Taunts, Incumliens arse, atque umbra complexa Penates.

But Afgos, which doubtless exuhed in Uie possession of the Panâtes that betrayed the house of Priam, Argos itself soon exr hibited a striking example of the vicissitudes of fortunç. So eady as the reign of Julian the i^postate, its glories were eclipsed to ancb a degree^, that on account of its poverty, it could not contri* bute to the re-establishment of the Isthmian games. Julian pleaded its canse aQdnst the Corinthians : his speech, on that oc«  «asion is still extant in his works {Epi, XXV.) It is one of the most eztraordinaiy documents in the history of things and of iqankind. Finally, Argps the country of the king of kings, hav* ing become in the middle ages the inheritance of a Venetian widow, was sold by her to the republic of Venice for five hun- dr^ ducats, and an annuity of two hundred. Coronelli records the bargain. Omnia vanilas !

• I was received at Argos by Avramiotti, the Italian pbysiclan, wbom M. Poucqueville saw at Naupli^ and on whose grand- daughter he performed an operation for hydrocephalus. M. Av- f amiotti showed me a map of the Péloponnèse, in which he had begun to write with M. Fauvel, the ancient names by the side of the modem ones : it will be a valuable performance, which cculd not be executed but by persons resident for a number of years oa the spot. M. Avramiotti had amassed a fortune and began to sigh after his native land. There are two things, wliich graw stronger in the hei^ of man, in proportion as he advauces in years; the love of country and religion. Let them be ever so much forgotten in youth, they sooner or later present tlicm&eives to us arrayed in all their charms, and excite in the recesses of oiur hearts^ an attachment justly due to tkeir beauty.

mm*, An '%àWÊàM^ ni

'We eonrersfldy therefore, aboQtPiraiiceiiiditi^f anasoB ttat the Argive aoMer who aceompanieA ifineas, reeel- licMI iA;#goB when expirijig In Ualy. Agamemnon was aearee^ mentioned by us, though I was to see his tomb the fottowing day. We tdked upon the terrace (tf the house whieh OYerlooia Ihe Golf of Argos : perhaps that veiy teiraee from whkdi n^poov woman hurled the tile that temunated ^e glor^ ^od the ad«  ventures of Pyrrhus. M. Avramiotti pointed ooÉ to sm a pro* montory on the other aide of the gulf, and said ; ^* U was there Ifaat Clytsmnestm statiened the slave who was to give the «gnal for the return of the Greeian fleet But/' added he, ^'you hay«  just come from Yemee; I tbmk the best thing I could do, irould be to return thither."

rieft thià exile in Greece -die following mondog at daj^bveak, and, wiâi fresh horses and a fresh guide, took the road to Corinth. I reaHj think that M. Ayramiotti was not sorry to get rid of me^- fhou^ he received me with great politeness, it was easy to jier- ceive that my tiait was not perfectly agreeable.

After riding half an hour we crossed the Inacfaus, ihe ftther of lo; so celebrated for iuno's jealousy. In ancient tunes, the trav- eller on leaving Argos, came to the gate Ludna, and the aUar of the Sun, before he reached the river. Half a league on the other Bide of it stood the temple of the Mysian Ceres, and beyond thi^, die tomb of Thyeste and the heroic monument of Perseus. We stopped nearly On the emmence where these latter monuments exbted at the period when Pausanias travelled. We wene geing to leave the plain of Argos, on which we have an excellent me- moir by M. Barbie du Bocage ; and to enter among the moun* tains of Corinth when we saw Naupli behind us. The place winch we had reached is called Carvathi; and here you must turn out of the road, to the right, to look for the ruins of Mycenc. Chan- dler missed them on his return from Argos, but they are well known, from the researches made there by lord Elgin, in his tour of Greece. M. Pauvel has described them in his Memoirs, and M. de Choisseul GouflSer possesses drawings ef them; they had been previously spoken of by the abbé Fourmont, and seen by Dumonceaux. We had to cross a heath : a narrow path con* ducted us to these remains, which are nearly in the same state as to the time of Pausanias; for it is more than twe thousand two

n» rurvm m ^u^nm^ umm inii

«nd «W*^ y««* aiAM MjrceiiB WM Ar^yes rased it lo Hm ground) jealoiit of the glory whMi k 1hm| mtqiakeu by sendiiig fertj warHora to dl9 nîtii tht Sputan «I Wieraiopjrto.

We fint exandned the tomb to ifUeh hm lieen Migiied tiif appellation of the tomh of Agamemnon; It is a aobtorimeovl o^ce tî m circular foim, which receiver li^t by a domci and ha* nothing remarkable etcept the simplicity of its archlteetiTO.-»^ Tou enter hy a trench, wMeh leads to Uif doorof theiomb; this door was adorned with pilasters of a reiy common species of bhK ish marble, procured from the nelghboaring mountains. It was lord Blgin, who caused this monument to lie opened, and âm earth with which the interior was filled, to be Reared away* A amaH eliptical door conducts from the principal aparlmsnt to ano- ther of less dimensions. After an attentrre inspection, I am of opinion that the latter is merely an excavation made by the worlEmen beyond the tomb, for I could not peareeive that it had any walls. The use of the little ^oor would still remam to be accounted ibr; it was perhaps simply another entrance to the aepntolire. Has this building beeii always buried under the earfli ike the rotunda of the Catacombs at Alexandria ? Was it, on the contrary, erected upon the surlace of the ground, like aie tomb «f C)ecilià MeMla, at Rome t Had it ai^ exterior decorations, and of what order were they Î These are questions wh^ch yet remain yet to be resolred. Nothing has bf^ found in the tomb, and we are not eren certain that H is the sqralchre of Agamemnon, meh- Cloned by Pausanias.*

On leaving this monument, I crossed a sterile valley, and en fiK side of the opposite hill, I bdieM tiie rmas of Mycenss. Ipafr tfonlarly admired one of the gates of the d^, composed of gigan- tic masses of stone, laid upon the sofid rock of the hiU, with which they seemed to form bat one whole. Two ocdossal hons, on each side of thi» gate, are its on^ ornament They are represented in relieTo, stan^ting, and face to Usee, like the liona. wUch supported the arms of our andent eheraKers; but they have lost tiieir heads. I nevçr saw, even in Sgjrpt itéelf, a more inclosing specimen of arduteetare, and the desert in which it

  • The JLaced»momui8 also boasted that they posvetted the aihes of Agaraem-



îâgfi irluGh Stimbo and Panaanias aaïuibed to Uie Cyclops, ané tMCM of whicb have been «fiscovered in Ital^. M. Petit Radei BwSntaîins tbat this k|iid of architectofe preceded the iaTeiilioi| ol tfaeofder»; itiiidisptitaUlf belong» to the heroic agea. Fov the real^ it was a ^hfephaid boy, Bttixk naked, that showed me in ttb aolitodei the tomb of AgaroemnoBj and- the ndoB of

. At the ibot of the door that I have ipok^ o^ is a fountain wUah than be» if fo^ ploato» the aane tt^t Persons found under a sHiflhrooaBy and which garo name to My cen» ; for mj^ees is the* Cfaraek ienn for a n^nshroom, or the hilt of a sword ; tÛs story- ia told by Pausanias. On retoraing towards the road to Gorinth, I heard the gronnd dnder jnj horse's feet sound hollow : I alighted, and dfisCOT^red Ham rauit of another tomb.

Panianias reckons up fiye tombs at Mycen»: the tomb ot Alreiûy that of Agametnnon, thai of {Surymedon, that of Teledn» itas and Pelops» and that of £lectra« He adds» that Clyt^mnes* trf. and .fipstfaus were interred wUhont the waHs : aài^i it not thes be thm tomb that 1 discovered? I hare described the spot to M* Faurel, who will esamine it in his first excursion to Argoa«  How ftingalar the destiny that brings me from Paris to fix the rito of the nuns of Sparta^ and to discorer the ftthes of CU|y«  tunnestm!

Leaving Nemtta on our left» we pursued onr rovto* We reach* fdCkninth in good time^ having etossed a kind of plain, intov* leetod by streams of water, and broken by detached hills resent Uhig the Acro-Corinthus, with wldeh they blend. The latter we peredtred long before we anired fit it, 19Le an irregular mass of reddish granite, with a win^fing line of wall upon its summit, AH the traTellers in Chreece have described Oortoth. 8pon and Wheeler exptored the citadel, where they diacorered the lost fountain of Pirene } bat Chandler did not ascend to Acro-Gorinth, andM. Fauvel informed us, that the Turiu will not now permit my person to see it. In fact, I coidd net obtain leave to watt round about it, notwithstanding the appfioation of my janissary to that cflSset For the rest, Paosamaa in his Corintb, and Phitareh in hb life of Aratos, have given a complete description of the noi^umepts and loealitieB of Acro*Corinth.


We alii^tediKt a tolenbljr neal kan, aitiiAlad.iii «he eesàn af 4he Tillage, audi not far from the baaar. The jaitfssaisr wa» despatched for proTiaions; Joseph cooked the dinner, and whil» they were thus engaged, I took a stroll hi the enrirons of tl^ filaee.

Corinth stands at the foot of moontains in a plam whioh ex- tends to the sea of Crissa, now the galf of Lepanlo, the only Vodem name in Greece that vies in beanty with tiie ancient appellations. In dear weather, yon discern, beyond tfan sea, the top of Helicon and Parnassus; but from the town itself the Saro» nic sea is not visible. To obtain a view of it, yon must ascend to AcroCorinth, when you not only overlook that sea, but tiie eye embraces even the citadel of Athens and Cape Colonna.— -

    • It is," says Spon, '^ one of the most delicions views in ttio

world." I can easily believe him, for even from the foot oi Acro-Corinth, the proq>ect is enchanting. The houses of .the village, which are large, and kept in good repair, are scattered . in groups over the plain, embosomed in mulbeny, orange, and cypress trees. The vines, which constitute the riches of this district, ^ve a fresh and fertile appearance to the country ; they do not climb in festoons upon trees, as in Italy, nor are they kept low, as in the vicimty of Paris. Each root forms a detached ver» dant bush, round which the grapes hang, in autumn, like crystals. The summits of Parnassus and Helicon, the gulf of Lepanfto, which resembles a magirificent canal. Mount Oneius covered with myr- tles, form the horizon of the picture to the north and east; while ' the Acro-Corinthus, and the mountains of Argolis and Sicyon rise to the south and west Aa to the mtmuments of Corinth, there is not one of them in existence. M. Foucherot has discov- ered among their ruins but two Corinthian capitals, the sole me^ morial of the order invented in that city.

Corinthj razed to the ground by Mummtns, rebuilt by Jidiua Cœsar, and by Adrian, a second time destroyed by Alaric, again rebuilt by the Venetians, was sacked for the third and last time by Mahomet II. Strabo saw it soon after its re-establishment, during the reign of Augustus* Pausanias admired it in Adrian's time; and to judge from the monuments which he has described, It must have been, at that period, a magnificent ci^. It would be interesting to know^ in what condition it was in 1173, when it

WIS vuited by Benjaaaiii of Tudela ; but tins Spaideh Jew grare- Ij xebtes^ tiiat he arrîTed at Patras, ** the citj of Antipater, one of 1ti0 leur OreciaD kings, who ditided among themselres the enN pice of Alexander.*' He thence proceeded to Lepanto and to Co- linth: In the hitter, he found three hundred Jews, under the auiftefintendance of the venerable rabbis, Leo, Jacob, and Heze^ hiah ; and thia was all that Benjamin concerned himself about

Modem travellers have made us better acquainted with what ie»aina of Corinth after so manj calamities. Spon and Wheeler here discovered the ruins of a temple of the highest antiquitj; ttieae ruins consisted of eleven fluted columns, without bases, and of the Doric order. 8pon asserf^, that these columns were not in h<Hight above four diameters more than the diameter of the foot of ttie column; by which, 1 suppose he means that their height was equal to five diameters. Chandler says, that they were only half as hi^ as they ought to have been, according to the correct proportions of their order. Spon is evidently mistaken, since he takes the diameter of the foot of the column instead of the diam- eter of the middle for Hie standard of the order. This monu* meat, a drawing of which b g^ven by Leroi, was worthy of being noticed here, because it proves either that the early Doric had not the proportions since assigned to it by Pliny and Vitruvius, or that the Tuscan order to which this temple bears a close re- lemblance, did not origmate in Italy. Spon thought that he reeognifled in this monument, the temple of Diana of Ephesus, mentioned by Pausanias» and Chandler took it to be the Sisypheu» of Sirabo. I know not whether tibese columns, still exist ; f di<f not see them, but I have some confused recoUecdon of hearing that they were thrown down, and that the last fragments of them were carried awf^ by the EngUsh.*^

A maritime people, a king who was a philosopher, and wha became a tyrant, a Roman barbarian who fancied that the statues of Praxiteles might be replaced like soldiers' helmets; all these recollections render Corinth not very interesting: but to make some amends' you have Jason, Medea, the fountain of Pirene» Pegasua, the Isthmian games instituted by Theseu» and^sung by Pindar; that is to say, fable and poetry, as usual. I shall say

  • These fsolumns were, or still are near the harbour of Sthœnns, aad I misstW

them hy not goÎD^ down to the set.


nothing of Dionyuus and of Timoleon, one of wfeom ' was iti. cowardly as not to die, the other so unfortunate as to live. If I Were to ascend a throne, I would not reEnquish it but with my life : and never shall I be virtuous enough to kill my brother. I care not therefore about these two men; but I love that boy, Who during the siege of Corinth^ melted Hummius himself ipifii; tears, by reciting these verses of Homer:

'Oc /» •>«>-' ô^Àov Baviuf »a) 9r6rfi6i hrte-iFUf Nûr /i fi« xiv)^«xif 6«r«^Tf Sifc«i|<r« « xaTf du.

^' O, thrice, and four times blest, the Greeks Who perished before the vast walls of Ilion^ supporting the cause of the Atrides i Would to the gods, that I had met my fate on the itif when the Trojan javelins showered upon me while defending the body of Achilles ! Then should I have received the accustom- ed honours of the funeral pile, and the Greeks would have pie- served my name I Now ftite decrees that ray life should end in an obscure and inglorious death !'*

Here is truth, nature and pathos! here we find a great reverse of fortune, the power of genius, and the feelings of man!

Vases are still made at Corinth, but not such as Cicero so earnestly entreated his friend Atticus to send him. It seems, for the rest, as if the Corinthians had lost the partiality whieh they had for strangers. While I was examining a marble in a Vineyard, I was saluted with a shower of stones ; the descendants of Lais are probably denrous of keeping up the credit of the an- cient proverb.

When the Cspsars rebuilt the walls of Corinth» and the tem- ples of the gods rose from their ruins more magnificent thaa ever, there was an obscure architect who was rearing in silence^ an edifice, which remains standing amid the ruins of Greece. This architect was a foreigner, who gives this account of him- self:— *^ Thrice was I beaten with rods; once was I stoned, thrice I suffered shipwreck. In journeying often, in perils of

ib^aters^ in perils of robben», in pferik bj min6 own eonntryniett» in perils by the heathens, in perils in the city, in perils in the wilderness, in perils in , the sea, in perils among iSalse brethren^ ^n weariness and painfullness, ip watchings often, in hunger word thirst, in fastings often,, in cold and nakedness." This man, un- known to the great, despised by the multitude, r^ected as/' the ofTscouring of the world," at first associa^ted with himself only two . companions, Crispus and Caius, with the family of Ste- phanas. These were the humble architects .of an indestructible temple, and the first believers at Corinth* The traveller surveys the site of this celebrated city ; he discovers not a vestige of the altars of paganism, but he perceives some Christian chapels risii^ from among the cottages of the Greeks. The apostle might still from his celeâtial abode^ ^ve the salutation of peace to his children, and address them in the words, *^ Paul to the church o^ CSod, which is at Corinth."

It was near ejght in the morning of the 21st, when we set out froiii Corinth, after a good night's rest Two roads lead ^m Corinth to Megara : the one takes you over Mount Oera- nia, now Paiaeo Vouni, (the Old Mountain), the other along thé Baronâe sea and the Scironian rocks. The latter is the most in- teresting; it was the onl^ one known to ancient travellers, for âiey make no mention of the first ; but the Turks will not now allow you to follow it. They have established a military post at the foot of Mount Oneius, nearly in the middle of the isthmus^ so as to command both seais; this is the boundary of the pro- vince of the Morea, and you are not permitted to pass the mala guard without producing an express order from the pacha.

Having therefore no choice, but being obfiged ia take the former road, I was under the necessity of giving up the riUos of the temple of the isthmian Neptune, which Chandler could not find, which were seen by Pococke, Spon^ and Wheeler, and which still exist, as I was informed by M. FauveL For the same rea- son I did not explore the traces of the attempts made at differ- ent times to cut across the isthmus. The canal begun at Port Schœnus is, according to M. Foucherot, from thirty to forty feet deep, and sixty wide. Such an undertaking might, at the present day, be executed with ease, by means of .^npowder, the dis- tance firom sea to sea b^ng no more thair five miles, measur-



log tke narroirest part of the jieck of land by whieh they we separated.

A wall, six miles in length, frequently demolished and bnitt up again, obstructed the access to the isthmus, in a place deno- minated Hexamiliia. It was at this spot that we began to ascend Mount Oneiua. I frequently stopped my horse aaridst pinesy laurels, and myrtles, to took beliind me. Sorrowfully did I con* template the two seas, especially that which extended to the west, and seemed to tempt me mth the recollection 'of France* That sea, ho>v placid ! the distance how small I In a few days I might be again in the aims of my friends ! — ^1 surrcyed the Pé- loponnèse, Corinth, the isthmus, the place where tiiose once fameuA games were celebrated. What a desert ! what silence ! Unfor- tunate country ! unhappy Greeks ! Shall France one day foe stripe peu in like manner of her glory ? Shall she, in the course of agee^ he thus laid waste and trampled under foot ?

This image of my country, which aH at ofKfe mingled itself with the scenes presented to my view, affected me inuch ; and I could not think, \nthout pain,. of the spaccf that I had yet ia traverse before I should revisit my Penates.

We entered the defiles of Mount Oneius, aRernately losing and recovering the view of the Saronic sea ai\d Corinth. Prom the most elevated part of the mountain, which has assumed tbe name of Macrtplaysi, we descended to &\e dervene^ that is to si^, the main guard. I cannot tett if this spot be the site of the ancient Crommyon; but this I know, that the people whom I found there were not more humane than Pytiocamptes.* I showed the order given me by the pacha : the commandant hivited me to smoke a pipe and drink coffee in his barrack. He was a fat man ; the picture of apathy and unconcern, who could not stir upon his mat without sighing, as if the slightest motion put him in pain*. He examined my arms, and showed me his arms, especially a long carbine, ^M^nch, he said, would cariy very far. The guards per- ceived a peasant, who was scrambling up the mountain, out of the road; they called to him to come down, but he could not bear them. The commandant then rose with difficulty, took deliberate aim at the peasant, between the fi^tree8, and fired* Alter this exploit, the Turk returned, and seated himself on Ub»

• TU kenthr tfj^ne», s robber llbea fcy Tbe9eul^

xcrrT, AND BAftBAlur. m

wuty wMt as much calmaess and composure as erer. The peaa* anC descended to the guard, to all appearance wounded, for he «ept and showed bis blood; on which ûîty stroke» of the basti- nado were administered to cure him.

I rose abruptly, and with feelings the more acute, as it was probably the wish to display bb dexterity before me than induced this ruffian to fire at the peasant Joseph would not translata what I said, and perhaps prudence was necessary on this occa* Aon; but I was too indignant to listen to the sn^estions oC t^rudence. I called-for my horse, and away I went without wait- ing for the janissary, who shouted after me to no purpose. He and Joseph overtook me, when I had advanced a considerable way along the ridge of Mount Gerania. My indignation gra- dually subsided, from the effect produced by the scenery around ffie. It seemed as if on approaching Athens, I had once move entered a civilized country ; as if Nature herself liad assumed a less dreary aspect. The Morca is almost entirely bare of trees, though it is certainly more fertile than Attica. 1 enjoyed the ride through a wood of fir^ between the trunks of which I caught a view of the sea. The slopes, extending from the water^s edge to the foot of the mountain, were covered with olive and earob- trees ; and formed one of those landscapes which are very rare in Greece.

The first thing that struck me at Megara, was a number of Albanian women, who were, indeed, inferior in beauty to Nan* dcaa and her companions : they were merrily washing lin^n at a spring, near which were seen some shapeless remains of an aquedact If this was the fountain of the Sithnides, and the aqueduct of Theagenes, Pausanias has extolled them too high- ly. The aqueducts which I have seen in Greece, bear no re- Ëemblaïu^e to the Roman aqueducts : they are scarcely raised at all above the surface of the ground, and they exhibit not that series of large arches which pro<luce so fine an effect in the per- spective.

We aliped at the house of an Albanian, where wc found pretty good lodgings. It was not yet six in the evening, and according to my usual custom, I took a stroll among the rains. Megara, which yet retains its name, and the harbour of Nisiea, now denominated Dodeca Ecclesiais, the Tuelrc Churches^


though not cdebrated in history, formerly contained some fine^ monuments. Greeoe, under the Roman emperors, must hare' nearly resembled Italy daring the last century ; it was a clasmr region, every city of which teemed with ma8te^pieces• At Me-* gara, were io be seen the twelve superior deities, by j^raxiteles, a Jupiter Olympius, begun by Theocosmos and Phidias, and the tombs of Alcmene,' Iphigenia, and Tereus. On the last of these, the figure of the hoopoe was seen for the first tijoae, whence it was concluded that Tereus was metamorphosed into that bird, as his victims were transfbrmed into the sWaÛow and tiie ni^t< ingale. As I was making a poetical tour, I could do no otter than firmly believe with Pausanias, that the adventures of the daughter of Pandlon began and ended at Megara. I perceived» moreover, from Megara, the two summits of Parnassus, and ûài was sufficient to remind me of the Imes of Virgil and La Fontaine ;

Nij^t or Darkness, and Jupiter Conius* had temples at Megara, and it may be asserted,'that tho^ two deities still con- tinue to reside thejre. Vou see here and there some fragments of walls; whether they are part of those which ÀpôUo erected,- in coi^unction with AJcathous, I cannot tell. The god, while engaged in this work, laid bis lyre upon a stone, which has ever amce emitted an harmonious sound, t^en it is touched with a pebble. The abbé Fourmont collected thirty inscriptions at Megara; Pococke, Spon, Wheeler, and Chandler, found some others, wbicli afford nothing of interest. I did not look for Euclid's school : 1 should have been much better pleased to dis- cover the house of that pious female who Interred Phoclon's bones beneath heir hearth. After a long «excursionf I returned to my host, where I found that I had been sent for to visit a patient.

The Greeks, as well as the Turks, have a notion that all the Franks possess a knowledge of medicine and particular secrets. The simplicity with which they apply to a stranger for relief in tliejr diseases, has something affecting, and reminds you of an-^

  • The Diaty from Ksvia, dust This is aot absolutely certain ; but I have on

my side the French translator, who, indeed foUows the tAtin version', as thé legnicd LarcherjGsUy observes.


.oient manners ; it ahows a generous confidence placed by man m man. The sayages of America have the same practice. I emiceive that, in this case^ reii^on and humanity enjoîa the tra* Teller to comply with what is requested of him ; a look of confi- dence and cheering words may sometimes restore life to the ex- piring, and fill a wiiole fannly with joy.

A Greek had come to fetch me to visit Ins daughter. I found the poor creature extended on a mat upon the floor/ and buried mder the rags with which she had been covered. She raised* her arm with great reluctance and modesty, from beneath tliese wretched tatters, and dropped it lifeless upon the bed-clothes. 8he appeared to me to have a putrid fever ; I directed the small pieces of money, with which the Albanian females of the lower classes adoni their hair, to be disengaged from her head; the weight of her tresses, and of the metal, concentrated the heat about the brain. I had with me some camphor, as a preventive against the plague ; I divided it with the patient, to whom grapes had been ^ven to eat :— • regimen of which I approved. Lastly, we prayed to Christos, and the Panama (the Virgin Maiy) and I promised a speedy cure. Th», however, I was for from ex- pecdng; I have wiaiessed the death of so many, that I possess too much experience in that way.

At my departure, I found all th^ village albembled at the door* The women Ihronf^ round me, crying : Crasi ! crasi ! wine ! wine ! — They were anxious to show their gratitude, by forcing me to drink : this threw a raâier ludicrous air over my charaeter of physician. But what signifies that, if I have added at M égara another person to the number of my well-wishers in flie various parts of the world tBrough which t have wandered. It is tKe privilege of the traveller to leave many memorials be- hind him, and even sometimes to live longer in the hearts of strangers Ihan in the bosoms of his fiiends.

I returned with painftd feelings to the kan. The image of the expiring young woman haunted me all night; I recollected that VirpI, when visiting Cfreece, like me, was stopped at Megara by the disorder which terminated his life. I was myself tormented with fever; a number of my countrymen, far njiore unfortunate than UEiysel^* had passed through Megara a few years before : an4

  • ThegsrriMiii of Zante.


I became anxions. to leave a place, to which something tiM aeemed to me to be attached.

We dM not, however, get awaj from our quarters till eleven in the forenoon of the next day, the 22d of Augast Our Aiba^ nian host was desirous of regaHng me before my départait^ witli one of those fowls without rump or tail, which Chandler considered as peculiar to Megura, and which were originally brought from Virginia, or perhaps from a smaH district of Ger* many. My landlord set a high value on these fowls^ concenna^ which, ho knew a thousand anecdotes. I informed him, by my in^ terpreter, that I had travelled in the native conntry of these birds, a country situated at a very great distance beyond the sea, and that there were in this ccMmtry, Greeks living in the recesses el the forests, among savages. It is a fact, that some Greeks, wettfjr of fiieir yoke, have settled in Florida, where the fruits of liberty have effaced the remembrance of their native land. '^ Those who had tasted of thb sweet fruit were unable to relinquish it ; but they resolved to remain among the Lotophagi, and forget Ûieir country."*

The Albanian understood not a word of what I said ; and oiAy replied by invitiag me to eat his fowl and some JruUi di mare. I should have preferred the fish, called glaueu», formerly caught on the coast ne^ Megara. Anaxandrides, quoted by Athenœus, declares that Nereus was the first who contrived to eat the head of thb excellent fisli : Antiphanes insists that it should be "boil- ed ; and Amphis serves it up whole on à black shield to the seven chiefs, who affrighted heaven with horrid oaths.'^ "^

Tlie delay occasioned by fle good-natii^e of my host, and still more by my weariness, preitented our reaching Athens the same day. Leaving Megara, Ihave said, at eleven in the fore^ noon, we first proceeded across the plain, and then asc^oded Mount Eerato Pyrgo, the Kerata of antiquity. Two detached rocks crown its summit; and on one of theni are seen the ruins' of a tower which gives name to the mountain. It is on the side of Kerato Pyrgo, towards Eleusis, that we must place the poto* gtra of Cercyon and the tomb of Alope. Not a vestige of theni is left : we soon came to the Flowery Well at the bottom of a cul<«  HvAted valley. I was almost aa much iGi^gued a9 Gereti when sh^

BOTF T, AM» nXRMAWr. 12?

Mt down on fhe briDk of this weU, after «eeking ProfierpUio in ▼aiii ftll over the world. We stopped a few moments in the vat* ley and tiien pursued onr routes As we advanced towards Eleu- li», I did not percdve anjr of the variegated anettiones, which Wlieeler observed ih the fields ; but then^ indeed, the season for them vfas over.

About five in the evening, we reached a pUiin encompassed with mountains on the north, \fest, and east. A long narrow Krm of the sea washes this plain to the south and forms the eoid to the arc of the mountains. The other side of this arm of the sea, k bordered by the riiore of an elevated island, the eastern extremity of which approaches so near to one of the promonto- ries of the continent, as to leave but a narrow channel between Iftmtn. I resolved to halt at a vill^e situated on a hill, which stands near the sea, and forms the western extremity of the cir- cular range of mountains, mentioned above.

In the plain were to be seen the ruins of an aqueduct, and many fragments of buildings, scattered among the stubble, left from the recent harvest. We alighted at the foot of the hill and walked up to the nearest cottage, where we found a lodging.

While I was at the door, giving directions about sometlimg or other to Joseph, a Greek came up and saluted me in Italian* He inmiecfiately gave me his history : he ^as a native of Athens, and followed the employment of making pitch from the pines of the Geranian hills ; he was a friend of M. Fauvel, and certainly I should see that gentleman. I was dehghted at meeting with tiiis man, hoping that I ^ould obtain from him some information respecting the ruins and the places in the neighbourhood of that where I was. I well knew, indeed what these places were, but it struck me that an Athenian, and an acquaintance of M. Fauvel's could not foil to be an excellent cicerone. I therefore requested him to give me some account of the places l»efoie me, and to in- form me what things were worth seeing. Laying his hand upon Ibb breast, in the manner of the Turks, he made a low bow. *^ I have)'^ replied he, ** often heard M. Fauvel explain all that ; but It» my part^ I am but an ignoratit man, and don't even know whether it is all true or not. In the i^rst place you see to the West, above the promontory, ttie top of a mountain perfectly yel- l«w: that is the T«lo Youni (the little Bymettus). The island

on the other side of that arm of the Bea is CoIohiî ; M* Fauvet calls it Salamis, and says that in the channel opposite to j^ou, a famous battle was fought between the fleets .of the Greeks ^ml Persians.' The Greeks were stationed in tills, channel ^ the Ffi^ siaos on the otljer side towards the Lion's Port (the Pir^i^us,) The king of these Persyms whose name I hare forgpttçn» W4^ seated on a throne placed at the point of that cape. As to the Tillage where we are, M. FauTel gives it the name of Eleuais; but we call it Lepsina. He says, that there was once a teiaplç (the temple of Geres) below this house: and if you will take the trouble to walk a few st^s, ypu may see the spot where stood the mutilated idol of that temple (the statue of Ceres Eleusinaf} but it has been taken away by the English." .

The Greek returned to his work, and left me wiUi mjr ^eil fixed on a desert shore and a sea, where ,not a vessel was to. be. seen, but a fishing-boat moored to the ring^ of a mined mole.

All the modem travellers have visited Eleusis; all the in- scriptions there have been copied» The abbé Fourmont alon» took about a score of them. We have a veiy learned dissertation on the temple of Eleusis, by M. de Sainte Croix, and a plan of it by M. Fottcherot Warburton, Sainte Croix, and the abbé Bar- thélémy have said all that is worth saying on the subject of the mysteries of Ceres. The mutilated statue, carried away by two Eu^lish travellers, is taken by Chandler for the statue of Pro- serpine, and by Spon for that of Ceres. According to Pooocke, this colossal bust measures five feet and a half across tlie shoul- der^ and the basket which crowns it is more than two feet in height Spon asserts, that this statue was .in all probability the work of Praxiteles ; but I know not what foundation he had for thb opinion. Pausanias, out of respect for the mysteries, has not described the statue of Ceres, and Strabo is likewise silent oa the subject. Pliny, to be sure informs us that Praxiteles executed .a Ceres in marble, and two Proserpines in bronxe : the first hav«: ing been conveyed to Rome, cannot be the same that was seen, a few years since at Eleusis ; and the two Proserpines of bronze are out of the question. To judge from the print which we have of this statue, it might have represented merely a Ganephonu If I recollect rightly, M. Fauvel obscrve<l to me that this statue, not^vithetanding its reputation, was of very inferior workmanship.


I liare, therefore^ nothing to relate concerning Eletnbi after so-jttany travellers, except that I strolled among its ruins, went dotnt fa ltd port, and paused to survey the streight of Salanus. Ilie festivities and the glory of Eleusis are past ; profound si* fence pervaded both the land and the sea ; no aclamations, no «ongB, no pompous ceremonies on shore; no warlike shouts, no shock of galleys, no tumult of battle on the waves. My imagt- nalfon was too confined, now to figure to itself the religious pro- eèsnon of Eleusis; ^ow to cover the shore with the countless host of Peruana watching 'the battle of Salamis. Eleusis is, in xDyofMnion, the most venerable place in Greece, because the uni- ty of €k>d was there inculcated, and because it witnessed the gnuidest struggle ever made by men in defence of liberty. ^ Who would believe that Salamis is, at the present day, al- most wholly effaced from the memory of the Greeks ? The rea- der has seen how my Athenian expressed himself. '^ The island of Salamis," says M. Fauvel in his Memoirs, has not retained its name ; it is forgotten, together with that of Themistocles.'* Spon relates, that he lodged at Salamis with the papas Joannis^ ^ a man," he adds, " less ignorant than any of his paiishioners, dnçe he knew that the island was formerly called Salamis ; and this information he received from his father»" ^his indiffer- ence of the Greeks, relative to their country is equally deplora- ble and disgraceful ; they are not only ignorant of its history, but afcnost all of them are such utter strangi^rs to the language which constitutes their glory, that we have seen an Eoglishman, im- pelled by a holy zeal, propose to settle at Athens, for the purpose ef teacliing the ancient Greek.

I tsonld not think of returning tilt night drove me from the shore. The waves, raised by the evening breeze, broke against the beach and expired at my feet ; I walked for some time along ikke shore ef that sea which bathed the tomb of ThemistocU's : aid in all probability I was at this moment the only person in lireece that called to mind this great man.

leseph had purchased a sheep for our supper: he knew that wie should reach the house of a French consul the next day. He cared oat for S|)arta, which he had seen, or Athens which he was ÇDÎogto see; but in his joy at being so near the end of his fa- tigiiefl, he provided a treat for the .whole family of our host



Wife^ children, husblmd, were all in motion ; the jaitisaary alooe •at Ml asiidst the general bustle, emokhig hh pipe, and enjoy* Ing his exemption from all this trouble, by which, howeFer,:lis hoped to be a gainer* Since the suppression of the myslenos by Alaric, neter had there been such a feast at Eleusis* We sat down to table, that is' to say, we squatted upon the flo^i^ ajoundtiie repast: our hostesa had baked some bread, whidi, though not very good, wa» soft and «moking from the oycas. Fain would 1 have renewed the cry Xtt7{t> Ax/uj^rt^, HaH Ceree / This bread, made from com of the late harvest, psoved Ihe fjBiJ* lacy of a prediction recorded by Chandler. At the period of ih^ traveller's visit, it was a current saying at Ëleusîâ, that if ever the mutilated statue of the goddess were removed, the ptaju would cease to b^ fertile. Ceres is gone io England, and tte fields of Eleusis are not the less favoured by that real Deity, wto invites all mankind to the knowledge of his mysteries, who is not afraid of bolog dethroned, who paints the flowers with a thousand lovely hues, who tends the fruits from their first fosm^ tion to maturity, and bestbws, in due measure, sunshine and ramy

  • and refreshing dews.

Thb good cheer, and the peace in which we partook of H, I enjoyed the more, as we were indebted for them, in some metf sure, to the proteetion of France. Thirty or forty years ago, the coasts of Greece in general^ and the ports o| Corinthy Megara^ and EleuHs in particular, were infested by pirates. The good order established in our stations in the Levant, gradually su{^ pressed this system of plunder ; our frigates kept a vigilant look out; and under the French flag, the subjects of the Forte tasted the sweets of security. The recent revolutions in Europe oc- casioned for a short Ume other combinations of powers ;. but th». corsairs have not .again made their appearance. We drank therefore to the glory of those arms which protected our. enter^* tainment at Eleusis, with the same feelings as the Atheniai» must have expressed towards Alcibiades when he had conduce ed the procession of lacchus in safety to the temple of Ceres*

At leugtli arrived tlie great day of our entrance into Athena. On the 23d, at three in the morning, we were all on hoFsebacf^ and proceeded in silence along the Sacred Way ; and never tUd the most devout of the initiated expcrteuce transport^ e<|ual to


Emilie. We had put on our best clothes for the solenui occasioa ; Ihe janteary had turned his turban, ^d, as an e^aordinary- Udttgi the hoih^s hail been rubbed down and clewed. We «rosdedj^ bed of a stmam called SafaatarPotamOj or Û^e Forty fiSvers^ (irobabljr the EleusinMli Cepfaisiis ; and «aw «on^e; ruin$ «f Chriadan churches, which stand on the ttte of the tomb 4»f that Zarex whom Apollo himself mstnicted in the art of song. Other lUiBB indicated IKe monmnents of Eumolpe and. Hi{H[M>thQiao. Wè>found the Bbiti, or currents of sait water, where, during the fitasts of Iffleusis, the popjilaice insulted paseeiigers io memory •f the abase with yd^eh an old woKtan had o^ce lojB4ed Cerea. Proceeding thence to the extreme point of tiie canal of Salaini»^ we «ntered the defile formed by Mount Pai^s and Mount ^gar iMn; this part of the Sacred Way was denominated the Mystie. We perceived the monaatety of Daphne, ^erected on the ruios of the temple of Apollo, and the church of irhich ia one of the most ancient in Attica. A litflc farther we observed some re- mains of a temple of Venus. The defile then began to widen ; we made a cîréuit round Mount Pœcîle placed in the middle of the road as if to hide the scenery beypnd it; and tl^e plain of Athens suddenly burst upon our Tiew.

The trareliers who visit the citf of Gecrops, usually arrive by the Pineus, or by the way of Negropont They then lose part of the sight, for nofliing but tlie citadel can be perceived as you approach from the sea; and the Anchesmus. intercepts' the prospect as you conie from Ëubœa. My lucky star had con? ^ucted me the proper way for viewing Athens in all its glory.

  • The first thing that struck me was the citadel lUumined by ttie

riaiBg sun. It was exactly opposite to me on ihe otfafir side of the plain, and seemed to be supported by Mount fiymettus, which ibnaed the back-ground of the picture. It exhibited, in a con- Ibsed assemblage, the capitals of the Propyiasa, the columiia of "the Parthenon, and of tlie temple of Erectheus, the embrasure^ ^ a wall planted with cannoQ, the Gothic nilns Qt the Christians, and the edifices of the Mussulmans,

Two small hills, the Ancliesmus and the Museum» rose to the oorQi and soufli of liie Acropolis. Between these two hills, and at the foot of the AcropoUa, appeared Atliens itself. Its flat roofs interspersed with minareti» cypresses, ru!n<>, detached colun^is,


and the domes of ïU mosqacs crowned with tha large neeta o) gtorks, pi^uced a pleasing effect in the Mn'srays. But if Athens might yet be recognised by l(s ruins, it was obvioUB at the same time, from the general appearance of its architecture, .and the character of its edifices, that the city of Minerva was no longer inhabited by her people.

A banier of mountains, which terminates at the sea, forms the plain or basin of Athens. From the point whence I beheld this plain, at Mount Pœcile, it seemed to be divided into Uiree strips or regions running in a parallel direction from north to south. The first and tiie nearest to me was uncultivated, and covered with heath ; the second consisted of land in tillage, fVom which the crops had recently been carried ; and the tliird exhi- bited a long wood of ofives, extending somewhat in the form of a bow, from the sources of the Ilissus, by the foot of the An- chesmus towards the port of Phalereqs. The Cephisus runs through this forest, which, from its venerable age, seoms to be descended from that olive-tree which Minerva caused to spring from the earth. On the other side of AUiens, between Mount Hymettus and the city, is the diy channel of tlie Ilissus. The plain is not perfectiy level : a number of small hills, detached from Mount Hymettus, diverBify its surface, and form the dif- ferent eminences which Athens gradually crowned with its mo- numents. ,

It is not in. the first moment pf a strong emotion that you derive inoEt enjoyment from your feeljnji;^. 1 proceeded to- wards Athens with a kind of pleasure which deprived mc of the power of reflection ; not that I experienced any thing like what I had felt at Hie sight of Laccdemon. Sparta and Athens have, even in their ruins, retained their different characteristics ; those of the former, are gloomy, grave, and solitary ; those of the lat- ter, pleasing, light, and social. At tlie sight of the land of Ly- curgus, every idea becomes serious, manly, and profound ; tlie soul, fraught with new energies, seems to foe elevated and ex- panded : before the city of Solon, you are enchanted, as it were, by the magic of genius; you are filled with the idea of tlie per- fection of man, considered as an intelligent and immortal being. The lofty sentiments of human nature assumed, at Athens, a de- gree of elegance which they had not at Sparta, ^mong t))e


AChemaofl, patriotism and the lore of ind^endence, were not a tilHid Jmtioot, but an eatightened sentiment» springbig from that Ime of the beanllful in geneni, with which hoaren bad so libe- «allf endowed them* In a word» aa I passed from tba nilns oC Lacedannen to tbe'ruui» of Athens, I felt 4wt I should have liked to die with Leonidas, and to five with Peiicles.

We advanced towards that little town whose temtoiy extended ifteen or twenty leagoèe, whose populafion was not eqnal to that of 8 suburb of Paris, and which, neverCheiess, rivais the Roman empire in renown. With my eyes steadbstly fixed on its rinns^ I applied to it the verses of Lucretius :

^a ^ Prima frugiferos foetus tnortftlibus «grii

Dedidcrunt quondam preclaro Doininc ACbcD»; £t reereaTerunt Titasn, legesque rogAffURt ; £t prima dedidcmmt aobtia duicia tltx. .

I know nothing more glorious to the Greeks Aian these words of Cicero : — " Recollect, Quintius, that you govern Greeks, who civilized all nations by teaching them mildness and humanity, and to whom Rome is indebted for nil the knowledge she posscs- ics."» When wc consider what Rome was at the time of Pompcy and Caesar, what Cicero himself wa«^ we shalj find in these words a magnificent panegyric^*

We proceeded rapidly- tlirough the two first of the rcglonf into which the plain of Athens appeared to be divided, tlie waste and the cultivated region. On this part of the road nothing U to be ceen of the monument of the Rhodian, and the tomb of the courtezan ; but you perceive the ruins of some cliurchcs. We entered the olive wood ; and before we reached the Cephisus we met with two tombs and an altar to Jupiter tlie Indulgent. We soon distinguished the bed of the Cephisus^ between tlie trunke of the olive-trees which bordered it like aged willows. I alight- ed to salute the riyer and to drink of its water; I found just as jnuch 43 I wanted in a hollow, close to the bank ; the rest had been turned off higher up, to irrigate the plantations of olives. I have always taken a pleasure in drinking at the cele- brated rivers which I have passed in my life : thus I have drunk

  • PCny the roosger writee in ^kearly ihe tame terms to Ms'^UnoSf prpoovsnl


0f (he wi^er of the Mississippi, the Thames» the Rhine, the Po, the Tiber, the Eurotaa, the Cephisus, the Hermus, the Gnai- €U8, the Jordair, the Nila, the Tagus, and the Ebro. What mm^ bers on the banks of those rirers might say with the Israelites ; , Sedifnus etJUmnvus !

I perceired, at some distance on mj left, the ruins of the bridge over the Gephisas, built by Xenodes of Lindtt& I motAt» ed laj horsovithout looking for -the sacrdU fig-tree, the altar of Zephjrrus, or the pillar of Anthemocritus ; for the modem road deviates in this part from the ancient Sacred Way. On leaving the oliye-wood, we came to a garden surmounded with wallsi which occupies nearly the site of tlie outer Ceramicus. We proceeded for about half an hour, through whea^ stubblesf be- fore we reached Athens. A modem wall, recently repaired, and resembling a garden wall, enccMnpasses the city. We passed through the gate, and entered Uttle rural streets, cool, and yery clean : each house has its garden, planted with orange and fig- trees. The inhabitants appeared to me to be lively and inqulsi- live, and had not the dejected loo)£ of the people of thç Dlorea. We were shown the house of the consul.

I could not hav« had a better recommendatiep than to M. Fauvel, for seeing Athens, tie has resided for many years in the city of Minerva, and is much better acquainted with its mi- nutest details than a Parisian is with Puis. Some excellent Memoirs by him, have been published ; aqd to him we are in- debted for most interesting discoveries relative to the site of Olympia, the plain of Marathon, the tomb of Themistocles at the PirsBus, the temple of Venus in the gardens, &c. Invested with the appointment of consul at Athens, which merely serves him as a protection, he has been, and stijl is engaged as draughtsman upon ûnft Voyage pUtoresqus de la Grèce. M. de Choiseul Gouf- fier, the author of that work, had favoured me with a letter S^v the artist, and I lyas (umished, by t^e minister,* with another for the consul.

It will certainly not be expected Ihat I sliould h0re give #

complete description of Athena: as to its history, from the Ro-

inans to the present time, that may be seen in the Introductioi|

^ jQiis volume. In regard to the monuments of ancient AtbeiiSi

• M. de Tdcynuid.


file titaslatkm of Pausanias, defectire aa it k, will completely satisfy ^^ generality of readen ; and the Travels of Machams leaveB scarcely any tbing more to wirii for. The ruins of this ftmoua city have been so amply described in the letters in €ru- sius's coUecUon^ by father Babin, JLa Guilletière himself, not- withstandmg bis falsehoods, Pococke, Spon, Wheels, Chandler, and particularly by M. Fauvel, that on this subject, I conid only l«peat what they have written» la it plans, maps, Tiews of Athens, and its monuments, that you want ? These you will meet with evecy whete : it is sufficient to mention the works of the marquis de Nointel, Leroi, Stuart, and Pars. M. de Choiseul, in finishing the work which has been interrupted by so many calamities, will fonush the public with a complete delineation of Athens. The manhers and government of thé Athenians have been treated of with equal ability by the authors whom I have just mentioned ; and, as enstoms are not variable in the East, as in France, all that Chandler and Guys* have said concerning the modem Greeks, is still perfectly correct.

Without making any display of erudition at tMe expense of my predecessors, I shall, therefore, give an account of my ex- cursions and my feelings at Athens, day by day^ and hour by hour, according to the plan which I have hitherto pursued.

I alighted in M. Fauvel's court-yard, and was so fortunate aa to find him at home. I immediately delivered my letters from M. dc Choiseul and M. de Taleyrand. M. Fauvel was acquainted with my name»^; I could not say to him, ^m pUhr anchHo — but at least I was an amateur fraugJit with zeal, if not wltli talents. I was so anxious to study the- antique and to make improvemeiit. I had come so far to sketch some poor designs, that tlie master perceived in me a docile scholar.

A thousand questions first passed between us, concerning Pa- ns' and Athens, on which we mutually endeavoured to satisfy each other ; but Paris was soon forgotten, and Athens engrossed all our attention. M. Fauvel, warmed in his love of the arts by a disciple, was aa eager to show me the remains of Athens, as I was to see them ; but jet he advbed me to wait till the heat of was over.

• The latter, however, should be perused with caution, and the reader «hculd Wwwe of adopting hU srstem.


In iht house of my host^ there waa notiiiiig tb^ betrayed Ite coma! : 'l)ut the ardst and antiqaary were every where appmreat. How delighted was I to have for my lodpng at Atbeiu, an apart- me&MuH of plaster canta taken from the Parthenon ! The walk .were hang romid with riewe of the Temple of TheseuB, plans of the Propylea, maps of lAttica, and the plain of Marathon. Theft were marbles on one table, and m.edals on another, with small beads and vases in krra eatta. A venerable dust was at my great tegret swept away ; a bed was nmde ap for me in the midst of all these curioâties; and, like a conscript who joins the army on the eve 4>f an engagement, I encamped, on the field of battle.

M. Fauvel's house has, like most of the houses at Athens, a «ourt in front, and a small garden in the rear. I ran to all the Vfindows to discover something or otiier in the streets ; but aH in vain. Between the roofs of some neighbonrmg houses might, boiwever, be perceived, a small corner of the citadel ; I remained <xed at the window which looked that way, like a schoolboy, whose hour of recreation has not yet arrived. M. Fauvel's ja- nissary had itkonopolized my janissary and Joseph, so that I had no occasion to concern myself about them. . At two I was summoned to dinner, consisting of ragouts of mutton and fowls, partly in the French, and partly in the Turkidi fashion, llie wine, which was red, and as strong as our Rhone wines, was of good quality ; but to me it tasted so bitter, that. 1 «ould not possibly drink it. In almost all parts of Greece, it is more or less customary to Infuse the cones of the pine in the wine-vats ; and this communicates to the liquor a bitter and aro- matic taste, to whioh it is some time before you become habitu- ated.* If this custom be, as I presume, of ancient origin, it will explain the reason why the cone of- the pine was consecrated to Bacchns. Seme honey from Mount Hymettus, was brought to table ; but it had a strong taste, which I disliked, and, in my opi- nion, the honey of Ghamouui is far preferable. I have since eaten a still more agreeable honey, at Eircagah, near Pergamus, in Anatolia ; it is white as tlie cotton from which the bees collect it«  and has the firmness an consistency of paste of marsh-mallows. My host laughed at the faces that I made, as he had expected*, at

  • Other trsTeikra ascribe this taste to the pitch (hat is mixtrd with the vflut ;

this niaj be partly correct ; hot t)ie coae of the pme it likewise iafoaed in k.

iSéTPT, Aim BABfiAET« 1 31

thé wiae ftnd honey of Attica ; but, as some e(Miipèiisatioii for the «Bdftppointmeiit, he desired me to take notice of the dress of the female who waited on us. It was the very drapery of the ancient Greeks, especially in the horisontal and nndalating folds that were formed below the bosom, and joined the perpendienlar folds which marked the skirt of the tanic. The coarse stoff of which this woman's dress was composed, heightened the resem- blance : for^ to judge from sculpture, the staffs of the ancients were much thicker than ours. It would be impossible to form the large sweeps obsertable in antique draperies^ with flie mns^ lins and silks of modem female attire: the gaUze of Cos, and the other stuffs which the satirists denominated woTen wind, were never imitated by the chissel.

While tre were at dinner, we received the compliments of what in the Levant is called the nation. This nation is compo- sed of thé merchants, nadvcs, or dependents of France, residing at the different ports. At Athens, there are but two or three houses of this kind, engaged in the oil trade. M. Roqne ho-^ noured me with a visit : he had a family, and invited me to go and see him, with M. Fauvel. He then began to talk of the news of Athens. " A foreigner; who had been for some time resident there, had conceived or excited a passion, whicfa was the topic

of the whole town. There was strange talk near the house

of Socrates, and scandal in circulation by the gardens of Phocicm.

-As the archbishop of Athens had not yet returned from

Constantinople, it was not known whether justice would be ob' tained against the pacha of Negropont, who threatened to lay Athens under contribution. To prevent a surprise, the wall had been repairect However, there was every thing to be hoped from the chief df the black eunu(;hs, the proprietor of Athens^ who certainly had more influence with his highness than the pa^^ cha." ^O Solon! O Themistocles ! The chief of the black eu- nuchs, proprietor of Athens ! and all the other towns of Greece^ «envying the Athenians this signal good fortune ! — " For the rest, M. Pauvel had done very right to dismiss the Italian monk who resided in the Lantern of Demosthenes, (one of the handsomest boHdings in Athens) and to supply his place with a French ca- puchin^ a mart of polite manners, affable, intellicent, and behaved with groat civiJitv to stranger?, who according to custom, sought


ftospHftfify at th^ French c^Bvent" Bach were the fopse»

<rf conversadon at Athene ; whence it afipeers that the world goe# ftere-Bineh tiie same as In tyflier places, and that a trayeUeft wtiose kM^^nation is wanned and eiuiltedy must be somewhal eonfotindeé to ind in the eftreet of the Tripods, the gossip of lib natire village.

Two English travellers had left Athens just h^bre my arrivaf: h Rmnan painter, who lived extremely retired, still remained there. Athens is much frequented by the lovers of antiquity, be» ca«se it is on the way to Constantinople, for which city a passage may easfly be procured by sea*

About four in the afternoon, the heat beginning to abate, M. Fauvel ordered his janissary and mine to attend us, and we went out preceded by our guards. My heart palpitated with joy, snd I was a&hamed of being so young. My guide pointed out tbé féHcs af an antique temple, almost at his own door ; then tumlng to the Nght, we proceeded along small but very populous streets* We passed through the bazar, abundantly supplied with butcher's meat, game, vegetables, and fruit. Every body saluted M. Fan-^ ▼el, and inquired who I was ; but not one was able to pvonounce my name. We find the same inqul^five disposition as in an-^ cient Athens : ** All the Athenians," says St. Luke, " spent their limeki nothing else but either to tell or to hear some nçw thing."* As to the Turlbs, they exdaimed : Fransouae ! Effmdi! imd con^ ftnued to smoke their pipes, their iavourite amusement. The Greeks, on seeing us pass, raised their arms above their heads, and cried: KàU>s iWiete ^rckonêRS 7 B&ie kola eU pakeo Mhinan f

    • Welcome, gentlemen ! A good journey to the ruins of Athens !"^

and they looked as proud as if they had said to us: you are going to f^htdias or to letinns. I had not eyes enough to embrace the ok^cts that struck my view, and foncied that I discovered aati«  quities at every stepw M. Fauvel now and then pointed out ta me pteces of sculpture wliich seihred Ihe purpose of posts, walls^ and pavements : he told me the dimensions of these fragments in l^t, inches, and lines; to what kind of structures they belonged; what presumptions concerning them were authorized by Pausa- nas ; what opinions were entertained on the subject by the abbé Barthelcmi, Spon, Wheeler, and Chandler ; and in what respect»

♦ Acta xviJ. 21 .

fteaa YipiBtonfi appeared to 6e well or iU fouadeiL We paiiAe4 •t erery step ; the jaoisaaries, and amimber of ehUdrea who weal before us, stopped wherever thej saw a moulding, a CDeodce, m a capital, and cooBulted the looks of M. Fauvel, to knov wbetiMc they did right When the eonaul shook his head, they sfaeok their heads too, and placed themselves a few steps farther on, before some other fragment. In this manner we were eondnctecl beyond the centre of the modem town, and arri?ed at the west fiide, which M. Fauyel wished me to yisit first, that we nsight pce«  ceed regMlarly in our researches.*

On passing the middle of modem A^ei», aad proeeedîa|| erectly west, the houses begin to be more detachedy and their i^ear large vacant spaces, some enclosed within the watts o£ the city, and others lying without the walls, in these forsake)» spaces we find the Temple of Theseus, the Pnyx, and the Areo* pagus. I diaU not describe the first, of which there are already. BO many descriptions, and which bears a great resemUance t» the Parthenon; but comprehend it in the general reflectioaa which I shall presently make on the subject of the arehitectum of the Greeks. This temple is in better preservation» than any^ other edifice in Athens: after having long been a church dedicar^ led to St George, it is now used for a storehouse. -

The Areopagus was ntoated on an eminence to the west oC flie citadel. You can scarcely conceive bow it was possible t% erect a structure of any magnitude on the rock, where its riiin% are to be seen. A little valley, called in ancient Athens, C^eZe^ the hollow, separates the hill of the Areopagus firom the hill of the Pnyx and that of the citadel. In the Cœle were shown tho; tembs ci the two Cymons, of Thueydides, and Herodotus. The Pnyx, where the Athenians first held their popular assemblies,^ k a kind of esplanade, formed on a steep rock, at the back of the. Lycabettus. A wall composed of enormtous stones supports this, e^lanade on the north side ; on the souUs stands arostram, bewi^ out of the solid rock, with an ascent of fiiur steps, likewise eut eat of the rock. I take notice of these circumstances, becausa ancient travellers were not accurately acquainted with the form ^ the Pnyx. Lord Elgm, a few years since, caused tlus hill to he cleared of the rabbish ; and to him we are indebted for the dbcovery of the steps. As you are not yet quite at the top of

lit . TRAylstB Iff ^REBcs, Tkixirm^f

iiie rock, yon cannot perceive the sea without ascending aborf the rostram. The people were thus depriyed of the view of Hb^ FiraBQSy that fbctloas orators mii^t not lead them ao eaeily into Tash enterprises, as if thej had before their eyes the spectadd of their power and of their fleets.* The Athenians were ranged on the esplanade, beitwe^ the circular wall which I have men- tioned, on the north, and the rostrum on the south.

In this rostrum then it was that Pericles, Alcibiades, aaé Bemosthenes, delivered their orations ; that Socrates and PhocioA harangued the people in the most mellifluous and the most ex- pressive language in the world. It was here that so many un- just acts were committed; that so many iniquitous and ci*ml decrees were pronounced. This was, perhaps, the spot whers Aristides was 'exiled, where Melitus triumphed, where the en- tire population of a city was sentenced to die, where a whole na- tion was doomed to slaveiy. But it was here too that illustrious «itisens raised their generous Voices against the tyrants of their eountry ; that justice triumphed ; that truth was heard. ^* There exists a people,^' said the deputies of Corinth to the Spartans, ^'<}uiok tb eoticeive, prompt- to execute. Their hardihood ex^ ceeds flirir power. In the dangers into which they often rash wittiout reflection, they are never forsaken by hope ; naturally restless, they seek to aggrandise themselves abroad: when con- i|uerors, they advance and follow up their victory ; when conque^ cd, they are not disheartened. With the Athenians, life does not appear to be the property of individuais ; such is the cheerful- ness with which they sacrifice it for their country ! They think liiemselves deprived of a lawful right whenever they fail to ob- tain ibe object o^ their wishes. When frustrated in one plan, Uïey supply ito place with a new hope. Their projects are Marcely formed before they are execqf ed. Incessantly engaged vrith the iutnre, they bestow no Care on the present ; but strangers themselves to repose, they cannot endure it in other8.?'f

But what has become of this people 7 Where shall I look for it— -I who translated this passage amid the ruins of Athens,

  • Ilistoiy varies in regard to this fact. According to one ttatement» it wu

ÛXÙ trranu who obliged the oratoi-s to turn their backs to the Pjneui« 

t TUwojO^life,!..

I my eye» beheld tke imiiareta of Mnssiiimntt» md my earn wmtg with the aceeats of Chrifltâans ? It was to Jeruniein thai I went to seek the aoBwer to this question ; and I was acquainted iiefore-hand with the wonk of the oraeie ;--'< Dominuê morUfir ioai ti wÀfiùat ; deêueit aâ ir^roê et redueU,^

Having anfficîenttime left before it. would be dark, we pio- eeeded from the Pnyx to the hill of the Museum. This hill, as jivery body knows, is crowned by the monument of-Philopappua •* aaonument in a bad taste : bat in this instance, it is the person awl Bot the towàh that deaenres the attention of the trayeller. Thb obscure Phllopappus, whose sepulchre is seen at such a (fiatanee, lived during Trajan's reign. Pansanias, who deigns 9g»tita reoord his name, calls hnn a Syrian; but it af^iears from tke ioaeriptioa on his statue that he was a native of Besa, a tH- lage of Atttaa. This man, them^ whose name was Antioehoa Phîlopappas, was the rightfulhw to the crown of Syria. Pom- jfef had tcansporied the descendants of king Antiochas to Athens, where they had become priTate citiasens. I know not if. the Athenians, on whom Antiochus proAipely lavished hb fa- roure, sympikthized in the misfortunes of his dethroned family ; but it appears that this Philopappus was at least coasnl-eleet Fortune, by making him a dtiaen of Athena and consul of Borne, at a period when these titles were equivalent to nothing, seemed incUned to play new freaks with this disinherited monarch, to compensate him for one shadow with another, and to show in one and the same individual, that she langha alike at the majesty of people and at the majesty of kings.

The monument of Philopappus sieved us as a kind (tf obser- vatory to contemplate other vanities. M. Fauvel showed me thto varions places where the walls of the ancient city had stood ; he pointed out the ruins of the theatre of Bacchus, at the foot of the citadel, the dry Channel of the Uisus, the sea without slnps, and the deserted ports of Phalereus, Munychia, and Pirsus.

We then returned into Atiiens : it was dark, and the consul sent to apprize the governor of the citadel that we should pay It a visit the next morning before sun-rise. I wished my host a good night, and retired to my appartment. Ojipresaed with fv tigue, I had been for some time fast asleep, when I was suddenr ly wak<»d by the tambourine; and the Turkish bagpipe, whoiç


fBaeordant tones piDceeded from tbtf top of the Propyliea. At th^ «aàie time a Turkish piîest began to aing the hour in Arabic to tiie CbristianB of the city- of Minerva. 1 cannot describe what I Mt; this iman had no occasion to mark so precisely the flight of time ; his voice alone, on this spot, amnomiced but too clearly, the liq>se of ages.

This fickleness of human things is the more striking as it forms a contrast with the stability of the rest of nature. As if ta^ mock the revolutions of human societies, the very animals arsi Hàble to no convulsions in their empires, to no alterations in their manners. When we were on the hiil of the Museum, I observed a number of storks forming in battalion, and speedingr their Sight towards Africa. Thus for two thousand years they l»ve performed the same journey ; they have remained ijàde-: pendent and happy in the city of Sokm, as well as in the town of the chief of the black eunuchs. From their lofty nests, which BO revolutions can reach, they have beheld a total change in the race of mortals beneath them: while impious generations have sprung upon the tombs of reygious generations, the young stork . has never ceased to feed his aged parent.* If I pimse to in- dulge in these reflections, it is because the stork is a favourite with travellers; like them it knoweth the seasons in the bea^ Tens.f These birds were often my companions in my excur- sions in the wilds of America, where I frequently saw them per- ched on the wigwam of the savage. On meeting with them again In another species of desert, on the ruins of the Parthenon, I ooold not forbear devoting a few words to ray old friends.

The next morning at half past four, we went up to the cita- del : the top of the hill is surrounded with walls partly of anment and partly of modem construction ; other walls formerly «loom* passed its base. In the space comprised within these walls are, in the first place, the relics of the Propylaea, and the ruins of the temple of Victory.} Behind the Propylœa, on the left, towards tile city, you next find the Pandroseum, and the double temple of Neptune Erectheus and Minerva PoUas ; lastly, on the moat elevated point of the Acropolis stands the temple of Minerva. The rest of the space is covered with the rubbish of ancic»it and

• So we were told by Soliaus. f Jeremiah.

i TIic temple of Victory formed Uie right wiiig of the Propylfca.

aatodem bvMëiiigB, and wkh the tente, anasi a&d btnacka of the Turks.

The Biimimt of the rock of the dtadel is about eig|it hmi- éred leet long, and fom hundred broad ; its figure is nearly- an oval, with the narrowest end next to Mount H^rmettus, yon would say that it was a pedestal Ibnned expressly for the pnp> pme^ of «opporting the magnificent straetures by which it was browned. I shall not enter into a particular descriplioR of each of these structures, but refer the reader to the works %Thich I have 90 frequently mentiooed : and without repeating bene what every one may find elsewhere, I shall coatent myself with making alewigeneral reflections.

The ^rat thing tiiait strikes yon in the edifices of AÂens la lb» beaulifiil odour of those monumente. in our<^raate, in an atmosphere orereh«*ged with smoke and rain, stone of the pu* rest while soon turns black, or of a greenish hue. The serene sky md the biilMant sun of Greece merely communicate to the marble of Faros and P^ntelicus, a golden teiat resenbiing iktà of ripe corn or the autumnal foliage.

The correctness, the simplicity, and the harmony of the pro* portions next demand your admiration. You here see neitfaeb order upon order, column upon column, nor dome upon dome. Hie temple of Minerra, for example, is a sim^e oblong paral- leiogrmn, adorned with i^ vestibule, a pronao» or portico, and rais- ed dpon three steps, which run all round. This pronaos occu- pied near one third of the total length of the edifice. The inte- rior of the temple was divided into two distinct naves, which wvre separated by a wall, and which received all their li^tfrom the door. In one was seen the statue of Minerva, the work of Pht^as : and in the other was kept the treasure of the Atheni- ans. The columns of the vestibule and portico rested immedi- ately upon the steps of the temple ; they were without bases, fiutod, and of the Doric order : they were forty-two feet in height, and seventeen and a half in diameter at the bottom ; the iotercor luninaftion was seven feet four inches ; and the whole structure was two hundred and eighteen feet in length, and ninety-eight and a half in breadth. The frieze of the vestibule was decorated inth triglyphs of the Doric order : metopes^ or small tablets of marble, intervened between the triglyphs. On these metope^

PWAi» or his papib had eeo^ptured the birttie between d«i CenteuTB and the Lapith». The top of the wall of the templet <ir the fiieae of the Ci^Ua, was decorated with another bamo re- lievo» prpbably represeating the festival of the Paiiatfaeii89a«  Pieces of excellent scu^tiire, hut of the time of Adrian, the peci- o0 of the renovation of the art^ adorned the two pediments of th# lemple.* Votive c^eiinga, and likewise the shields taken from the enemy in the Persian war, were suspended on the outsld^ of the edifice» The circular marks left by the latter are sliU ta be seen in the «rchitmve of the pediment facing Mount Hyjpet<i ins. This circomstanee leads M. Fauvel to presume .that thei wtrance was on that side, contrary to the general opinion .whicl^ places it at the opposite end»-f Between these shielils were l^aced inscriptions, probably in letters of brass, if we may judget from the marks of the naib by which they were.affixed* M^ Fanvel conceived that these nails might perhaps have served to ft«ten up garlands, but he coincided in my opinion, when I pointed oiU to him 4ie regular disposition of the holes. Similar marks have sufficed for restoring and reading the inscription o{ the square e^ce at Nismes ; and I am convinced that if the Turks would give permission, the inscriptions of the Parthenon might in fike manner be decyphered.

Such was the temple, justly considered as the master-pieçi; of architecture, both ancient and modem. The harmony and tb^ strengtti of all its parts are still conspicuous in its ruins ; for w^ riiould form a very erroneous idea of it, were we to represent it to onrselves as merely a handsome but small structure, loaded with chasittg and festoons, in our manner. There is always something puny in our architecture when we aim at elegance,

  • I eannbt pcr9iia<1e myself that Phidias left the two t>e^n>ents of the tenplè

eempletely naketf, whibt he bestowed so maeh paioi on the decorstkHi of the friezes. If the emperor Adrian, and his wife Sabina, were represented in one of the pediments, ihey might have been introduced there instead of two other figures, or perhaps the heads of the persons had merely been changed, which waé often done. In this case, it would h«ve been no unworthy iVitteiy on the part cC the Athenians; Adrian deserved that honour, as the beoefactor of Athens, and the restorer of the arts.

t The idea is ingenious» but the proof is none of the strongest. Exclusively of a thousand reasons which might have induced the Athenians to suspend thé shields on the side next to Hymettiis, they might have wished not to spoil the atf- nûrable facade of the temple, by overloading it with foreign orMnneatv*

tthe^ when we aspire to micjesty. 8ee how ereiy Ûîh^^ i§ BOKkind at the Parttieiioii ! The order is the Doife, aad the eempanifiee «hortnestf of the eolamn, w that order, munediatelf ^ttV^jTfl flie idea of duration and eofiiKtj * but ttds eohma wliieh, Aoreover; b without hase, woukî have been too heavy ; Icthn» has recourse to his art, he makes the colomii fluted, and raise» it upon steps, by Wliieh means he combines almost the lightness of the Corinthian with the gratify of the Doric. Tiie only decOi- Hitiom are two pe(!bments and two sculptured frieaes. The IHëee of the vestflbide H composed^ of small marUe tahletSj regi»* fàrly dirided by a trfglypb : in faet each of these tablets is a ina^er-piece. Hie friece of the Cella runs like a fillet along Ibè top of a solid and level waD. This is all, absolute^ all* KifW widely different is this wise economy of ornaments, tWa happy mixture of simplicity, strength, and eleganee, from oof {profusion of ornaments, square^ oblong, circular, and loaenge- shaped: fW>m our slender cohmms, mounted upon caormoua bases, or our mean porches, which we caH porticoes^ crashad beneath the superincuml»ent weight

ft eannet be dissembled, that areUtecture, èonsiâered as an art, 10 in its principle en^nently r^igious : it was invented for the Wor^ip of the Deity. The Cfreeks, who had a mulfitttde of goda^ l^ere led to different kinds of edifices, aeeording ta the idea9 lîrhicfa they entertained of the «fiflerent powers of âiose gods. ▼itruvius has even devoted two chapters to this beantiftd sul^Jedt and teaches how temples and altars to IMinerva, Hercules, Oerev» tec. ought to be constructed. We, who adore but one single Author of Nature, we too, have, properly speaking, but one skugle natural style of architecture, the Gothic architectore. it must be obvious, at first si^t, that this style is peculiariy our own* that it dtîgiiiateâ and sprung up, in a manner with our altars. In the Grecian style we are but imitators, more or less ingeidou8;*'imi-* tators of a work, whose principle we pervert, by introducing into the habitations of men those ornaments which were applicable to the temples of the gods alone.

Next to their general harmony, their accordance with placen

  • Under Uie French kings of the hobse of Valois a eharmiag mixture of the

Grecian and Gothic architecture was introdaeed, but this ttwtc was of momenta* fy duratitm.



and sites, fheir adaptation to -the purposes for ivtiieli ilmy*' designed, what must be admired in the edifices of Oieeee-, i9:4k» ygh finish of all the parte. In them, Ûm object wliiek is iwt intended to be seen, is wrought with as much cave as the esta» ffior compositions. ' The junctures of the block» which form the columns of the temple of Afinenra are so petfiect as to require tha greatest attention to diseorer them^ and to lea^e a mark no thick* er than the finest thread. In order to attain tine extraordinary perfection, the marble wae first reduced to its proper ahape «idth the chtsset, afler wlnch^the two pieces were robbed one npmi llie other, and sand and water thrown upon the centfe ^ frifri tlonr. The courses, by means of this process, were placed wiih increifible precision, and this precision in the ahafte of the columiM^ was determined by a square pivot of olire wood. I have aacto one of these pivot» in the possesnon of M. Faavel. ^

- The rose», the plintlis, the raouldings, the astragals, all tha details of the edifice exhibit the same perfection. The lines «ef the capital, Mid the fluting of the columns of the Partiieaan, am 80 sharp, that you would be tempted to suppose that the enlMNf column had passed through a lathe. No turner's work in itor^ tan be more delieale than the Ionic ornaments of the temple of Brecâieus : and the cariatides of the Pandrosenm are perfect mo* dele. If, alter viewing the edifices of Rome^ those of Franoe appeared coarse to me, the structures of Rome now aeem barbie lous in their turn, since 1 liave seen the monuments of Geeece: not even excepting the Pantheon, with its disproportionate pe*- dianent The comparison may be easily made at Athens,, where Hie Orecian architecture is often placed quite close to the ardu* tecture of Rome.

I had fallen into a common error respecting the monuments of the Gkeeks : I had an idea that they were perfect as a whole, hut deficient in grandeur : I have shown that the genius of the architects has given in proportional grandeur to these monu- vientê, what they may want in size ; and Athens moreover is full of prodigious works. Hie Athenians,^ a people neither rich nor numerous, raised gigantic piles : the stones of the Pnyx are ah- eolute niasses of rock ; the Propylsea were an ipimense under- taking, and marble slabs with which they were covered, surpasa- ed in dinnenaiens any thing that was ever seen of the kiad; the

iwBMraf fte eelmmig of tke temple of Ja^r Olyinpi») pet- feipfteseeeds sixty fec^, and the whole temple waa haif a mile Jut menmSerenee ;• the walls of Athens, inclading those of the three èaibonr», extended over a space of near nine leagues;^ the walls which eonnoeted the ctty with the Pirseus, were so broad, Umt twc» chariots migM ran abreast npon them, and were flankr fid with s^piare towers at mtenrals of fifty paces* The Romans tiiemselves never erected fortifications of greater magpitude^

By what fatality do these master pieces of antiipii^y whieh flmmodenis owie so Isr and witlrtaicfa fadgne to admire, partlgr owe their destruction to the modems ?f The Parthenon existed enrtffe Jn l«87: the Christians first converted it into a* church 3 and the Turks, from jealou^ of the Christiaos, changed it, hi Aeîr turn, into a mosque. Amidst the illuminaâon of «scienca that pervaded the seventeenth century, the Venetians came and camioiiaded the monuments of the age of Pericles : they fired red liot balls on the Propytea and the temple of Minerva ; a ball fell l^nthe latter, penetrated the roof, set fire to some banels of gittpowder, and hlew up part of an edifice which did less honanr Id the false gods of Greece than to human geinus.} The tow» heing 4akeQ, Moronna, with a view to embelish Venice witli the spoils of Athens, attempted to rénove the: stataes from tite ptdtoent of the Parthenon, and broke th^n to pieces, Anothev ttodern came, out of love to the arts, to accorapUsh the work of destroGiion which the Venetians had begun.^

  • Two hundred stadia, according to DSo ChiyMstom, *

f Every body knows how the Coliseura at Roroe was destroyed, and also the htiti pun on the mbjectarBarberinimnd Barbarians. -Some historians suspect the knighlft of Rhodes of haringdemolisiied the celebrated ton&b of Mausohis: it waa ta ^ «ure, f^r Jthe defenae of RfiodeSy and to fortify the island against the Turks ; I^ut if this be an excuse for the knights^ the destruction of that wonder of the world Î8 not tlie less unfortunate for u«-

i The invention of fire arras is a fatal circumstance for the arts. Had tlie bar- lurians been acquainted with gunpowder, not a Grecian or Roman edifice wntdfl Itsve been left standing ; they would havebtown up the very PyramidB, bad it been «ttly to seek for hidden treosaref • One year of war among us destroys more J|«ld>«gs tliaii a» age of fighting did among tlie ancients. Thus it would seem» that among the modems, every thing opposes the perfection of the art ; their aji- mate, their manners, their customs, ll»eir dress, and even their very discoverie*.

§ Tliey mounted their battery, composed of six pieces of cannon and four mor- fai-s, on tlir* PnTK. Tt is scarcely conceivable bow it ]iappcncd ttiat at so short $

In HàM wodc I have had oeeaBÎoii to make freqaeat fnantiM «f tba same of lord Elgiii. To him we are iadebtady as I have qbaerred, for a perfect knowledge of the Pnyx, and the tomb «f Agamemnon ; he etiU keeps an UaKan in Greece, who is engaged in prosecuting his researches, and who, when I was at Athens^ had just discovered some antiques which I did not see.* But lord Elgm has eonnterbalanced the merit q£ his laudable efifeite^ bj ravaging the Parthenon. He was 4«ttrous of removing Hit basso relievos of the frieae : the Turkish woikmen employed iÊh the execution of this design, first broke the ardiâtmve, and tkra# down the eqiitals ; and then, instead of taking oat the metope^ by the gpoves, the barbarians thought it the shortest way to break the cornice. The temple Erecthesns has been robbed of the comer column^ so that it is now found necessary to support wiUi a pile of stones, the whole entablature, which is nothing to its fall.

The BqgKsh, who have been at Athens since the visit of lord Elgin, have themselves deplored these fatal effects of an inconsiderate love of the arts. We are tol<| that lord Elgin has asserted, in excuse of himself, that he had merely followed our example. The French, it is true, have stripped Italy of its lita- lues and pictures ; but they have mutilated no temples for the sake of the basso re.lievos: they have only imitated the Romans^ who plundered Oreece of her master pieces of painting ad sculpture. The monuments of Athens, torn from places to which they were adapted, will not only lose part of their relative beauty, but their intrinsic beauty will be material^ diminished. It is nothing but the light that sets off the delicacy of certain lines and certain colours: consequently, as this light is not to be found beneath an English sky, these lines and these colours will disap- pear or become invisible. For the rest, 1 will acknowledge that

distanoe, they ooaM aroid destroying all the edifices of the eitadel. See Faoeli's Mené MtUa, and the Introduction to this vork.

  • They were discovered m ^ sepolèhre; I beKeTe that of a chiUL Among

oUier euriosities found on this occask», was an mknown game» the principal piece of which, if I reraemher rightly, was a hall of poKshed steel. I ratlieç think there is some allusion to this game in Athenseus. The war between France and England prevented M. Fauvel from applying in my behalf to kird Elgin'a agent» so that I had not an opportviiity of seeing the anti<)ue toys which contoled aa Atheoias boy in his tomb.

tteMirest i^f Franiçe, the ^ory of -our^oifiitiyyU^a thonsiM othtr reasons might cull for tbe remoTst of the mo&umeiiU con* qaered by ouriurmB ; bat the fiae arts theoiselvi^ as belongiii^ to Hie ode of the vaaquished ai)d the wunber of the captivaii b«re perhaps a just right to depkwe their tiansplaiUatioii.

We passed the whole momiiig in the en^anùoatiQn of the ci- tadel« Tbp Turks had formerly stuck the minaret of a mosqui^ to Iha pwtieo of the Parthenon. We ascended by the half-de- sirogred staircase of this minaret; we seated ourselves on a Imy kan part of the îniize of the temple, and looked arouiid us. We lied mount Hymettns on the east; the Pantelicus on the iMrtb f the Fames on the north-west; the mounts teams, Gord|y-* shisi or uSgaJflsa on the west, and beyond the former was per- omred the summit of the Cith»ron; and to the south-west and south appeared the sea, the Piraeus, the coasts of Salamis, JE^gm^ Bpidaurus, and the citadel of Corinth.

Below us, in the hollow, whose circumference I have jus( fkacribed, were seen the hills and most of the moniiménts of Athens ; to the sonth-w^st the hill of the Museum with the tom|i of Philopappus ; to the west the rocks of the Areopagus, the Pnjrx, and the Lycahettus ; to the north the little mount Aehes^ mi|s, and to the eiist the hills which overlook the Stadium. A| the vevy foot of the citadel lay the ruins of the theatre of Bae* diUB ao4 ûf Herodes Atticos. To the left of these rui^ stoo4 ttMS huge detached columns of the temple of Jupiter Olympifis | ^ still further oflT, looking towards the north-west, we perceive^ the site of the Lyceum, the coprse of the Ilissus, the Stadium an^ a temple of Diana or Geres. In the west and north-west quarter, towards the huge wood of olive trees, M. Fauvel pointed out the ^te of the outer Ceramicus, the Academy, and its road bordered with tombs. Lastly, in the valley formed by the Ancfaesmus an^ the citadel was seen the modem town.

You mi^dt now figure to yourself all this space, partly wastfi and covered with a yellow heath ; partly iaterspessed with olive gmves, fields of barley, and vineyards. Tour imagination mus^ i^present shafts of columns and heaps of ancient and moden^ ruins, scattered among these cultivated lands ; and whitened w^s and the enclosures of gardens intersecting Uiem. You muet scat^. ^ over tlus space; Albanian women fetching water, or washini

150 tkAVELfl tlf «USCE, PALVSTIKEi

the garments of the Tarks at fhewelk ; peasants going and coifr* !ng, driving asses, or carrying proyisions on their backs to the eity. You must conceive all these mountains which have such fine names, all these celebrated ruins, all these islands, all these aeas not less famous, 01^mlned by a brilliant light From the summit of the Acropolis, I beheld the sun rise between the two peaks of mount Hymettus ; the crows which build their nests around the citadel, but never soar to its eununit, hovered below us ; their black and polished wings were tinged with roseate hues by the first radiant beams of Aurora ; colunms of light, blue smoke ascended in the shade, along the sides of the Hymettus and marked the gardens where the bees are kept ; Athens, the Acropolis and the ruins of the Parthenon were coloured with the most beautiful tints of peach-blossom ; the sculptures of Phi- dias struck horizontally by a ray of gold, started into life and seemed to move upon the marble from the mobility of the sha- dows of the relief: in the distance, Uie sea, and the Pirœus, were perfectly white with the light ; and the citadel of Corinth reflect- ing the brilliancy of the rising day, glowed on the southern hori- zon like a rock of purple and fire.

From the spot where we were placed, we might, in the pros- perous times of Athens, have seen her fleets standing out of the PIneus to engage the enemy, or to repair to the feasts of Delos ; we might have heard the griefs of Œdipe, Philoctetus, and He- cuba burst from the theatre of Bacchus ; we might have listened to the applauses of the citizens and the orations of Demosthenes. But alas! no sound met our ears, save a few shouts from an enslaved populace, issuing at intervals from those walls which so long re-echoed the voice of a free people. To console myself, I said what we are obliged to be continually repeating : Every^ thing passes away, every thing must have an end in this world. Whither are fled those divine geniuses, who reared the teniple en whose ruins I was seated ? This sun which, perhaps, beamed en the last moment of the poor giri of Megara, had witnessed the death of the brilliant Aspasia. This picture of Attica, diis spectacle which I contemplated, had been surveyed by eyes that have been closed above two thousand years. I too shall soon be no more, and other mortals, transitory as myself, will make the same reflections on the same ruins. Our lives and our



iravts «re in the hands of Crod ; let him then do with both what he piease&

On descending from the citadel I picked np a piece of marine belonging to the Parthenon : I had also preserved a fragment of the tomb of Agamemnon ; and I hare since made a practice of taking domething away with me from, the monuments I hav«t visited. They are not such splendid memorials of my peregri- natioBs as those collected by M. de Choiseul and lord Elgin ; but I am satisfied with them. I preserve them with as much care a«  jtlieJiUle marks of friendship which I have received from my %o^Ûx among others, a bone box given me by father MunoB at •;faffa< When I survey these trifles, they immediately remind me tqf m^ pilgrimages and adventures.

.trfydses returned home with large chests full of the .rich

{>res,ènts made him by die Phœacians ; I returned to my home with a dozen stones picked up at Sparta, Athens, Argos, and Corinth ; three or four small heads in terra eoUa given ms by U Fauvel, some chaplets, a bottle of the water of the Jordan, ^mother from the Dead Sea, a few reeds from the Nile, a piece <rfl marble from. Carthage, and a plaster moulding from the Al- hpimbra. I have spent fifty thousand francs on my tour, and left behind m^ my lipen and my arms as presents. Had it lasted a '^ttle lung^^r I should have returned on foot with a white staff in my hand. Unfortunately I should not have foun<), on reaching my native land, a kind brother to 'gay to me, like^e old man in the JtraJnan Nighis ; " Here, brother ; are a thousand sequins for )[ou, tniy camels and give up travelling."

. On returning from the citadel we went to dinner, and in the .evi^ning walked to the Stadium, on the olhcr side of the Iligsus. Th» Stadium has perfectly retf.ined lU form ; but the marble seala with which it was adorned by Herodcs Atticus are no longer to be see»! As to the ^i3sus, its channel is dry. On this occasion Qvmdler, overstepping the bounds of his usual moderation, ex* claims against the poetic, who give the llissus a limpid current and boEfier its stream with, tufted willows. It is obvious, through his spleen, that he has a great desire to attack a drawing of Lc«  Kîi's, which represents a view of the llissus. I am like Dr. Chandler : 1 detest descriptions that are deficient in trutli, and when a river is without water, I Irke to be told so. It will be

Men that t hftre not embellished the banks of aie Jordan, iiO# transformed that stream into a great river. Here, however, t had abundant opportunity ibr exaggeration. All travellers, and Scripture itself would have justified the most pompous descrip* Ûom. But Chandler has earned Ins censure rather too far. 1%e following curious fact I state on the authority of M. Fauvel : if Jrim dig ever so little in the bed of the Ilissus, you are sure té find water at a very small depth below the sur&ce ; aiid this ia feo well known to the Albanian women that they make a hole in the bottom of the ravine, when they are gomg to wash linen, and immediately meet witti water. It is, therefore, highly proba- ble, that the channel of the liissus has been gradually choked with stones and gravel washed doWn from the hills, and that tile water at present runs between two beds of sand. This is quite sufficient to justify those poor poets who experience the Ikté of Cassandra : in vain they sing the truth, they are not be«  Meved ; if they were content to say it, they would perhaps, he More fortunate. In this case tiiey are, moreover, supported by Ikistoiy, which assigns water to the Ilissus ; and why should Ihis Hissas have a bridge, if it never had water, even in winter f America has rather spoiled me In regard to rivers ; but I could not forbear to vindicate the honour of that Ilissus which gave a immame to the Muses,* and on whose banks Boreas carried off Orittiya.

On oilr return from the Ilissus, M. Fauvel led me over waste g;rottnds, where the site of the Lyceum must be sought We next came to the large detached columns, standing in that quar- ter of the city which was denominated New Athens, or the Athens of the emperor Adrian. Spoil asserts, that these pillaré are the remains of the portico of the One Hundred and Twenty Columns; and Chandler presumes that they belonged to the temple of Jupiter Olympus. They are metioned by Lecheva- lier and other travellers. Good representations of tiiem are given in the different views of Athens, and especially in the work of Stuart, who has restored the entire edifice after its ruins. On a portion of the architrave, which still connects two of these columns, is seen a mean building, formerly the habitation of a hermit It Is impossible to conceive how this hut could hav<*

  • lUmdes: they bad sn «lUr 6n fbfi bwki of the Ulstus.


irMi MM on the eapitds of these prodl^iiB eohuBBB^ which are perhaps upwards of nxty feet in height. Thus this Tast temple, at which the Athenians worked for serenlnmdred years ; TThieh aH the kings of Asia coveted the honour of filching ; lirhtch Adrian, the master of the world, had alone the glory ta complete ; ttis temple has heen laid low by the attacks of âme, and the ceff of an anchorite still continues standing npon ita ruins f A miserabie hovel of plaator is supported in the w hf two cofumns of n^arble, as tf Fortune had determined to exlnbit Id mankind, on this magnificent pedestal, a monument both; of her triumphs and her caprices.

These colomnS) though much more lofty thim those of the Parthenon, are far inferior to âiem in beauty; the degeneracy of aie art is observable in them ; hut as they stand insulated and scattered over a naked space, they produce a surprising effect. 1 stopped at their bases to listen to the wind whistling about their Mimmits; they resemble tfiese solitary palm-trees which Are here and there to beseeft among the ruins of Alexandria. Whett the Turks are threatened with calamities <^ any kmd, they bring a lamb to this place, and force it t» bleat while they hold up itn head towards the sky. Unable to find the voice of innocence aJtnong men, tbey have recourse to the young of the haimlesa sheep to avert the wrath of heaven.

We returned to Athens through the gate, over which is seen the well-known inscription :


We returned the visit which had been paid me by M. Roque, and spent the evening at his house, where I met several ladies. Such readers as wish for information respecting the dress, man- ^ars^ and customa of the Turkish, Greek, and Albanian women at Atheni} may consult the twenty-sixth chapter of Chandler'» Travels* in Greece. I would have transcribed that whole pas- ttgs, had it not been too> long. I shall merely observe, that the womea of Athens i^peared to me smaller and less handsome than those of the Morea. Their practice of painting the orbit of the eyea blue, and stalmng the tips of the fingers red, is disa-^ greeable to a stranger^ butas I have seen women with pearfs



flUspended to tlie note, as the IroquoiB think this cnstom es^ ceedingly genteel, and I was myself inclined to be partial to it, I must not find fault with tastes. For the rest, the women of Athens were never celebrated for beauty. They were reproach* «d with a fondness for wine. As a proof that their charms were not the most powerful, all the celebrated men of Athens were attached to foreign females : Pericles, Sophocles, Socrates, Ans* toH^y. and even the divine Plato.

On the 25th, we mounted our horses very early, and leaving the city, took the road to the Phalereus. As we approached the sea, the coast gradually became more elevated, and terminated in heights, the unuosities of which form, to the east and west, the harbours of Phalereus^ Afunychia, and Pineus; On the beach of the Phalereus, we discerned traces of the walls^that eneom- passed the port, and other ruins which were mere heaps of rubbish ; these were, perhaps, the temples of Jimo and Ceres. Near this spot, lay the little field and tomb of Arislides. We went down to the harbour, a circular basin, with a bottom of fine sand, capable of containing about fifty boats. This was exacQy the number that Menestheus conducted to Troy :

Tf /' £fui jrwTJMteyT* fitkaufttt rSiic •flrovri/. «< He was followed by fifty ^Uwk Teaeli.

Theseus also set saQ from Phalereus at his dq>arture for Crete»

Pourquoi, trop jeune encor, ne pûtes tous dort Entrer dan* le vaisseau qui le mit sur nos boixls ? Par TOUS auroît péri le monstre dé ta Crète,.&e.

It is not always large ships and capacious harbonrB that confer immortality. The name of a small creek, and of a little baric^ sung by Homer and Racine can never perish.

From the harbour of Phalereus we proceeded to that of Hunychia, which is of an oval figure and rather larger than the former. Lastiy, turning the extremity of a craggy hiH, and ad- vancing from cape to ci^ie, we reached the Pineus. M. Fauvei •topped in the curvature formed by a neck of land, to show me • sepulchre excavated in the rock ; it is now without roof, and ie upon a level with the sea. By the regular flowing and ebbins


of the fidei it is altertaateljr corered and left exposed, by turns fail and empty. At the distance of a few paces on the shore aro seen the remains of a monument

M. FauFel insists, that in this place the bones of Themistocles were deposited. This interesting discoyery is, however, contest* ed. It is objected, that the fragments scattered around are too fine to have been the tomb of Themistocles : and that according to Diodoms the Geogn^her, quoted by Plutarch, this tomb was in reality an altar.

This objection is by no means solid. Why introduce into the original question, another that is totafly foreign to the subject? Hay not the ruins of white marble, concerning which such dif«  f&eiilties are raised, hare belonged to a very different sepulchre from that of Themfbtocles ! why might not the descendants of Themistocles, after the popular animosities had subsided, have decorated the tomb of their illustrious progenitor whom they had first interred in a simple manner, and even by stealth, as we aie informed by Thucydides ? Did they not consecrate a picture representing the history of that great man ; and was not this pic- ture exhibited to public view in the Parthenon, at the time of Pausanias ? A statue was, moreover, erected in honour of The- mistocles, in the Prytaneum.

The spot where M. Fauvel has discovered this tomb, is pre- cise^ the Cape Alcimus: and of thisl^shall adduce a stronger proof than that of the calmness of the wafer in this place. There is an error in Plutarch ; the name should be Alimus, instead of AlcimoB, according to the remark of Meursius, mentioned by Dacier. Alimus was a demos^ or hamlet of Attica, in the district of Leonti?, and situated to the east of the Pirieus. Now the ruins of tlnB hamlet are still visible in the vicinity of the tomb of which we are speaking.* Pausanias is extremely confused in what he says, concerning the position of this tomb ; but Diodorus Perie- gctes is perfectly clear : and the verses of Plato, the comic poet, quoted by this Diodorus, describes the very spot and the sepul- chre found by M. Fauvel.

" Situated in an open place, thy tomb is greeted by the mari-

  • I hare no with to conceal any diffioulty» and am aware that some writers

Lare ^ilaced A^inins to ttc easlvard of Phalcrcus. Thucydides was a natire of

per «B Jie eiiten, or «ails out of the {laiboiir ; and ia mff ùàm% |ia¥el eQgBgementi thou wilt witaew the sbtck of the reswfe.^^ If Chandler was astoniahed at the aofitiide of the EinBut, I f«a affirm that I waa not leaa stracfc hj il than be. We had exr plored a desert coast, we had siirFe7«d three harbonn ; and m these three harhoqrs had not percÛFed one single vesseL No- thing was to be seen but ruina, locka, and the te^; and no sound inei the ev(^ save the cries of the kingfisher, and the dashing of the surges against the tomb of Themistocles, producing an in- cessant inunnnr in the abode of eternal sileiice. W^ed awi^r |>j the billows, the ashes of ih& conqueror of Xerxes reposed beneath them, commingled with the bones of the yanquished Persians. In vain mjr ey^e sought the temple of Venus, the iong gaileiy and the statue emblematic of the people of Athene : the image of that inexorable people was forever fallen near the well, to which the enled citizens repaired, to no purpose, to l^eclaim their country. Instead of those superb arsenals, those porticoes whence the gallies were launched, those Agore, n^ ▼erberating the shouts of the seamen ; instead of those edifioes, resembling the ci^ of Rhodes in thw general i^ipeanaice and beauty ; I saw nothing but a dilapidated convent and a magasine. Here, in a wretched hut of wood, a Turkish enstom-bouse offi* eer sits all the year round, the lonely aeptinel of the coast, and a model of stupid paUeoee: whole months elapse without his wUuesông the arrival of a single vesseL Such is the present deplorable condition of these once iamous hartwurs. W|iat can have destroiyed so many monuments of the gods and of men I That mysterious power which overthrows all things, which is itself subject to the A^f^'r» 0*^^ to that unkown God whoa^ altar was seen by Bt. Paul at the Fbalereus.

The port of the PirKus forms a bow, the two ends of which approach so near to each other as to leave only a narrow paa- sage : it is now called the Lion's Port, from a liop^ of marble» which was formerly to be seen there, and in )|686 was removed to Venice by Morosini. The interior of the harlM>ttr was divi- ded into three basins, Cantbarus, Aphrodisus, and Zea. Tou still see a wet dock almost half filled up, which may possibly liave been the Aphrodisus. Straho affirms, ti|at the great port

  • PhtttfSh'to life of The^st^ele^

of Aifacm was capable of bolfing ibw tattdred ûi^ wii Wi^jr fivvvfi» the nmaber to a thomaiML FïÙy of our brfgB woull completely fill it ; and indeed I know not, if two of our frigates would ride there at fkér eaae, eipedally bow Aat they moor with such a length of eahle. But the water is deep and the boi- loHi exeeHetit ; so that In the hands of a eirilified nation» the Pi» neus might become an im|KMrtant harbour. The only warehou^ now to be seen there is of Freneh origMi, harinf^ been b^r M. Qaspari, formerly the consul of Fnnee at Athena» it is not long since the Athenians were represented at the nraa, by the naâon which bears the nearest resemblance them.

Having rested forn moment at fiie euatomhoose and at fiie monastery of St Spiridion, we returned to Athens by the loaA from the Pirœua. We percelred the remains of the long wall the whole way. We passed the tomb of Antiq[>e the Amason, wldch has been explored by M. FauTel» who has fpven an ae* count of this research in hû memoirs. We rode among low vines as in Burgundy, the grapes upon which were just begHH aâng to tiim red. We stopped at the public reserroirs Mid vsh dor ^ve trees ; and I had the mortification to find that the tomb of Menander, the cenoti^h of EaripideSy and the little temple dedici^ed to Socrales, no longer e^t i at least they have not yet been (d&ieoyered. We pursued our way» and on approacldng the Museum, M, Fauvel pointed out to me a path winding 19 the side of that hill. This path he told me had been made by file Russian painter, who every day r^aired to Ihe same spot to talce views of Athens. If genius be no other tinm patience, aa Snflbn has asserted, this paiirter must possess a large share of that quaMty.

It is near four miles firom AUiens to aie Phalereus ; three or four from the Phalereus to the Plr^us, following the windings of the coast, and five from Pirieus to Athens, so that, on our return to tlie city we had been aboot twelve miles. As the horses were lûired for the whole day, we made haste to dine, and aft lour in the afternoon set out on another excursion.

We went out of the town on the side next to Mount Hymet- tus. My host took me to the village of Angelo Kipous, where, I» be conjectrires, he has discovered the temple of Venus in. the


Gardens, for reasons which he has stated in his niemoirs. The opinion of Chandler, who places this temple at Panagia Spilio- tbsa» is likewise veiy probable and has an inscription in its far vonr; but M. FauTel adduces, in behalf of his idea, two ag^d Hurtles and some fine ruins of the Ionic order : enough in all conscience to answer a great many objections. Such is the way with us antiquarians ; we are never at a loss for proofs.

Having inspected the curiosities of Angelo Kipous, we turn» ed directly west; and passing between Athens and Mount Anchesmus, we entered the great olive wood. There were no rains on this side, so that we merely enjoyed a pleasant ride, accompanied by the recollections of Athens. We came to the Cephisus, which I had already saluted lower down on my way from Eleusis. At this height it had water, but that water, I am Borry to say was rather muddy; it serves to irrigate the or- chards, and gives a freshness to its banks but too rarely met with in Greece. We then turned back, still continuing our ride tiirough the forest of olive trees. We left on the right a small- eminence covered with rocks. This was Colone, at the foot of which foimerly stood the village containing the retreat of So- phocles, and the place where that great tragic poet drew the last tears from the eyes of the fkther of Antigone. We followed, for some distance, the' Brazen Way, where are to be seen ves- tiges of the temple of the Furies; and then, on approaching Athens, we rambled for a considerable time in the environs of Hie Academv. Nothing now marks this retirement of the phi- losophic sages. Its first plantains fell by the axe of Sylla^ and those with which Adrian probably caused it to be embellished, have not escaped the ravages of succeeding barbarians. The altars of Cupid, Prometheus, and the Muses are no more ; every Bpark divine is extinguished in the groves where Plato so oft received inspirations. Two facts will demonstrate what beauty and what grandeur were discovered by the ancients in the les- sons of that philosopher. The night before Socrates received Plato among his disciples, he dreamt that a swan came and alighted on his bosom. Death having prevented Plato from completing his Crittias, Plutarch deplores this misfortune, and compares the works of the teacher of the Academy, with the


temples of Athens, among which that of Jupiter Olympus alone

was left unfinished, it had been dark an hour before we thou^t of returning to

Athens : the sky was studded with stars, and the air ineompara^ biy soft, pure, and transparent ; our horses went at a slow pace» and we had both become silent The way which we were pur- suing, was probably the ancient road to the Academy, bordered by the tombs of such citizens as had Mien for their country, and those of the greatest men of Greece. Here reposed the ashes of Thrasybulus, Pericles, Chabrias, iTimotheus, Harmo-* dins, and Aristogiton. It was a noble.idea to collect in one spot, the remains of those renowned persons who lived in different i^es, and who like the members of an iHustrious family long aspersed, repaired hither to lie down to rest in the. lap of their ecHnmon mother. What rariety of genius, of greatness, and of courage ! What diversity of manners and genius was h^^ embraced in one view ! And these virtues attempered by death, like those generous wines which we mix together, says Plato» tnth a sober divinity, no longer daKzled the eyes of the livii^. Admiration, untinctured with envy, was the only sentiment felt by the passenger, on reading upon the funeral column Uiese sim^ pie words ;


(Scero represents Atticus wandering among these tombs, and seized with a holy awe, at the sight of these augC^t remams. At the present day he could no longer draw the same picture. The tombs are destroyed ; the illustrious dead, whom the Athe* nians had placed without the city, as for an advanced post, rose not to defend it, but Buffered the Tartars to trample it under their feet. Time, violence, and the plough, as Chandler observes, bave levelled every thing. In this place the plough is super- fluous ; and that single remark will convey a more accurate idea of the desolation of Greece, than all the reflections in which I could indulge.

I had not yet seen the theatres and edifices in the interior of the town ; io the smrey of these I devoted the 36ih. The thea-

t« of Ba0«hii8( M ilHMrebeiefe oeecnrved, and a» ê^eiy Hftâpr knows, stood at the foot of the citadel, on the «de next to Momi ■ynMÉte. The Qrie«n begun bf Perieiesy finished hy Lyenir* (OS, (he son of Lyeophre», burned bj Arisdoaand 8jUa, and ve^ baHtby Ariobaraa&es» w«» sîtualeâ near the theatre of Baedns^ and probably conneetedwjiii it bjp ft porticp. It is probable^ thai near the sannespot, there ww » thM theatreeceeted hy Heiode^ ikttiens. The seats of these theatre» rested against the B&epn of thehnwhvBbservedttemfi^r a foimdation? A ooatrariellf ef opinions preraihi rsspeeteg these sb'Hctwres-: what Stuait re^ narss as nie coeatre oi Saeennsy is tanen uy vMfflnier lor low Od^fOn*

ne ndns of these theatres are insignifieant Iwwrnoftstsneli wH!^ thenis because F had seen monuments of this kind in* 24aiy «  ftr superior in sine, and in much better preservalîott; bul I made Ms Teiy painftil reflection, that under the Rbnmt emperors, at e lime when Atliens was stBl the schoof of the unirerse, f^Mtttoie exhiUted' tiietr sanguinary games in the theatre of Baeefana The master-pieces, of iEschjhls, Sophocles, and Buripides were banished firom the stage : assassittation and murder superaeded those q>ectaciiMr whicb excite so Ingh an idea of human genitt% and are the noble amusement of polished nations. The Atheni- ans ran to behold these cruelties with the same eagerness as fhej had formertj resorted to thé Dionysiaca. How could a people who had exalted themselres to such a height, how, I ask, could tbej now descend so low ? What had become of ttiat altar eonae- crated to Pity, which once stood in the midst of the public place at A&ens, and to wldch her votaries suspended fillets and ioeka of their hair? If, as Pausanias asserts, the Athenians were the ealjr Oveeks who worshipped Pity, and looked upon her as the consolation of life, how much must they have changed ? Most certainly it was not on account of the combats of gladiators that Athens receired the name of the aiured abode of ihe gods. Per- haps nations, like in^yiduals, are cruel in decrepitude as in in* ftuicy ; perhaps their genius may be exhausted; and when it hast run its career, when it has brought forth, relished, and enjoyed àXl ÛM it can, cloyed with its own master-pieces, and incapable of producing new ones, it grows besotted, and returns to purely physical sensations* Christianity will preirent modern nations



fifob fiiffing inf^such a deplorable decrepitude: but wéf^ aU t'eligi'op extmguiâhed among uâ, I ribould not be aitoniahed to he» the groans of the gladiator expiring on that stage wlûeh now echoes the sorrows of Phiedra and Andromache;

Haying examined the theatres, we returned into thé town^ Where we looked at the portico> which perhaps formed the en- trance to the Agora. We stopped at the tower of the wiiids^ which is not mentioned by Pausanias, bnt b described by Vitru^ vius and Yarro; Bpon giyes all the details of this edifice, with «I explanation of the winds: the entire monimient has also been described by Stuart, in his Antiquities of Athens; A drawing oC it was taken by Francesco Giambetti, in 1465, the epoch of th«  reviral of the arts; In the time of Father Babin, in 1672, this Tower ù£ the winds was mistaken for the tomb of Socrates.

I pass over in silence some ruins of the Corinthian order^ which are conjectured to be the remains of the Pœcile, of flie temple of Jupiter Olympius, of the Fiytaneum, and perhaps be» long to none of those edifices. So much is certain, that they aro not of the age of Periclest Tou perceive in them the HomaiK grandeur, but hkewise the Roman inferiority ; whatever the em- perors had a hand in at Athens, msj he discovered at the first glance^ and exhibits a striking inequality to the master^iieces of that age. We lastly went to the French convent, to return the Mtly rel^^us who occupies it, the visit whieh he had paid me* I have already observed, that the convent of our missionaries hicludes in its premises, the chorag^c monument of Lyâcrategp It was with tiiis last monument that I completed my tribute of admira^on to the ruins of Athens.

This elegant production of the genius of the Ctreeks, was known to the early travellers by the name of Fanari iok De» mosikeniâ. ^' To the house not long since purchased by the Capu- efain Fathers," says Babin the Jesuit, in 1672, '^ belongs a very remarkable piece of antiquity, which has remained entire ever râice the time of Demosthenes : it is commonly called the lantern of Demosthenes."^

  • li api^ean, that in 1669, there existed fmother moniiment at Athens, called

the Ijantem of Diogenes. On the subject of thb monnment, GuilleC appeals ttf the testimonj of the Fathers Barnabas and dimon, and of Messrs. deMonceaOB «ndl'Ainc.


les TlUVfiCB m «BEBCnB, TMSMftUnSf

• îtbm becH ûmtt JKseovered, and fini of alt% 6|K>]i ibut il if a ebcymgie motuimeiil, erected hy LysicrateB, in (he street of ih% Tripods. M. Legrand, some iîme snce, exhibited in the court of the Lomrre, a model of it, a» ierra eolta:* this model m» a reiy oorreet Tesemblaiieè^ onlf the architect, doohOess with a Tietr to gite his wot4c a greater degree of elegance, had suppressed aie ^rcular wall Which fill» the IntereohimBiatioiia Of the original.

It is eertaialjr not the least sdrprising of fertime^e freaks that Ae should have assigned to a eapnchiB a habitation in the cho* rape monument of Lfsicrates ;. bnt what at first àght may ap* pear hi^rous, becomes senoos and affecting, when we comidlNr tfie happy effiseta of oar missioBB,. when we reflect that a French eapnehin afforded hospitality to Chandler, while other French* reH^ons were enteftainhig other travellers in Chma and in Oaaa* da, in the déserta éf Africa and the wOds of Tartary.

  • < The Franks, at Atilens^ have no chappel,'^ says Spon,. ^ ex-

cept that of the Capnchine, which is at the Fanari tau Demùê-> ikêm9. When we were at Paris, the only person there waa Fa- ther 8enepfain,-a nery worHiy man,.. from whom a Turk belonging to the gamaon, one day, took his cord girdle, either ont of ma* fice, or the effects of intoxication, having met him in the road to the Lien'a Fort, whence be waa returning alone from a visit to^ aOBtfe Frenohmen on board oTa tartan, tlien l3ring io^that harboun

  • 'The Jesuits were eslabliahed at Athens before the Capa<^

ddas, and were never driven from the city. They retired to Ne^ gtopont, meiely beoaiiae they there found more occupation, am^ a greater number of Franks than at Athens. Their convent was doiostMthée^itremifyof flie torna, near the archbishop's pa- lace. As to the Capue^ns, they have been settled at Athens ever sfaiee 1658, and Father Sunon purchased the Fanari and the ad* jcdning house, m 16^, there having been other religioua of hia order, bef<N« him in the town."

It is tlien to Ûiese missions, so long decried, tiiot we are io» debtod for our early notions respecting ancient Greece. No traveller had yet quitted his home to visit the Parthenon, when, some religikHns ielf-«xiled to tiiese renowned ruins, awaited, like bootable ^ities^ iie antiquaty and the artisL The scholar in-

  • A lUMomeat liw nnoe been erected after dds mowment at St. Claml^

tqvareA what had bee<»ne of the eity of Cecvope» and (Jiere waaa Father Barnabas at Paris, in the noyiciate of St. James, and a Far 4her Simon at Compiégne, who could have giyen him iofonna^ tion on the subject; but they made no parade of their knowr ledge. Retiring to ^e foot of the erudfixi they bnried in the obscurity of the convent, what they had learned^ and above all» what they had suffered for twealy years, amidst the ruins of Athens.

' '< The French Capuchins," says la Gdlletière, ^< who bare been called to the mission of 4he Morea, by the congregation d^ Fropagandâ Fide^ hare their principal reudenee at Napoli, be^ cause the gailies of the b^s winter at that place, where they In gênerai lie from the month of NoTember till St Geoige's day, op which they again pat to sea. They ate manned with Christian slaves, who stand in need of instruction and encouragement ; end this is imparted to them with eqaal zeal and benefit by Father Samabas, of Paris^ who b at présent the superior of the mission <»f Athens and the Morea.**

But if ihese reU^oss, after Iheir return from Sparta and Athens were so modest In their clcHsters, perhaps it was becanae they wanted a relish for the admirable r^miuns of the Grecian art; ]p«ihaps too they had not previously acquired the reqniaite information» Let us hear what is said by Father Bafam, the Je-^ sait.; to whom we are indebted lor the earliest account we have of Athens.

    • ' You maçy find," says be, ** m varîous bo€Acs,aidescription oC

B^me^.Constantinople, Jerusalem, ai|d the other principal cities in the world, such as they are at present ; bfit I know not what bookdescribes Athens as I have seen it; and yon would not find the dfy at all if you were to look for it as represented in Pauaa* nias and other ancient auQiors : but you shall here see it in the slate in which it appears at t^s day, which is such, that, thou^ in ruins, it nevertheless excites a certain leqiect, both in those pious persons who behcdd its dmrches, and in those scholars who acknowledgis it to be the mother of the sciences, and ia those military men and generous snnds, who considérait as the fieU of Mars, the. theatre where the graateirt conquerors of an- ftViity signalized their valour, and (^oiiously displayed thehr «aevei^ their courage^ and ibtàs industry* Fhufly» these ruins


Is not this simple description of the Parthenon, such as U wi» at the time of Pericles» to the full as valuable as the more scien- tific accounts that have been given of the ruins of this beautiful temple ? . ,

Finally, were tlicse missionaries strangers to that compassion for the Greeks, those philanthropic sentiments, which we are so |)roud of intrcniu^g into our modern travels ? Let us turn again to Father Babin.

^' If Solon, surveying from a mountain, this large city, and the great number of magnificent palaces of marble which it contain- ed, formerly observed to one of his friends, that it was but a large, though rich hospital, filled with as many poor wretches as. the city comprehended inhabitants, I should have much greater rea- fion to talk in this manner, and to say that this town, rebuilt wit]| the ruins of its ancient palaces, is but one large and indigent hos- pital, containing as many poor wretches as there are Christiaos to be seen in it." . I beg pardon Cor having expatiated en this subject No tra- veller before me, Spon excepted, has done justice to the miasionB at Athens, which are so interesting to a Frenchman. I had my- self overlooked them in the Gfeme du Christianisme, Chandlctr says very little concerning tlie religious, whose hospltali^ he shared ; and I am doubtful whether he has once condescended to mention his name. God be thanked, I am above such petty scruples. When a person has laid me under obligation, I say eo : and, in the next place, I blush not for the arts, neither do I think the monument of Lysicrates dishonoured because it forms part of the convent of a capuchin. The Christian who preserves a monument, for the purpose of devoting it to works of diarity, appears to me quite as respectable as the pagan who erected it in «commemoration of a victory gamed in a concert of music.

Such was the conclusion of my survey of the ndns of Athens. I had examined them in order, and aided by the intelfîgencç and experience acquired by M. Fauvel, duryig a residence ot ten years on the spot He had saved me all the time that ia loat in groping, in doubting, and in seeking, idien we arrive alone in a new world. I had obtained clear ideas of the monumentsi the sky, the sun, the prospects, the land, the sea, the rivers, the woods., and the mountains of Attica; I could now correct my


sàftlded, and ^re my pictores of these celebrated places their Impropriate colouring. I had nothing to do bat to pursue mj route. Hf principal object now was to reach Jerusalem, and what an interral I had still before ipe ! I considered that the season was adrancing, and that if I made a longer stay, I might fOiss the ship which annually sùle from Constantinople to Jaffa, with pt^;rims for Jerusalem. I had every reason to apprehend that my Austrian vessel was not waiting for me all this time at the extremity of Attica, and that, not finding me there, she had proceeded to Smyrna. My host acquiesced in my reasons, and pointed out the track which I ought to follbw. He advised me to go to Keratia, a village of Attica, situated at the foot of Mount Lanrium, at some distance from the sea, opp€>8ite to the island of 2e9. ** When you have reached this village,^ said he," the peo- ple win kindle a fire upona hill ; one of the boats of Zea, accus- tomed to the signal, will Immediately cross over to the coast of Attica. Tou wUl then embark for the port of Zea, where you win perhaps meet with your ship from Trieste ; if not, you will ind no difficulty in procuring there a felucca, to Ohio or Smyrna.^

A man who, from a motive like mine, undertakes such a voy- age as I had done, is not to be deterred by risks and accidents. Necessity commanded my departure, and this was the only way by which I could leave Attica, for there was not a vessel of any kind at the Piraeus.* I therefore resolved to put the proposed plan info immediate execution. M. Fauvel wished to keep me a few dajrs longer, but the apprehension of losing the season for Ae voyage to Jerusalem overpowered every other consideration.- The north winds had but six weeks longer to blow ; and iff should arrive too late at Constantinople^ I ran the risk of being detained there by the westerly winds»

I dismissed M. Vial's janissary, having first paid him, and pven him a letter of thank» to his master. In a journey attended with any hazards, it is painful to part with a fellow-traveller with whom you have for some time associated. When I saw the janhaary, after wishing me agood journey, mount his horse alone»^ take the road to Eleusis, and ride off in the very opposite direc- tion to that which I was about to pursue, I felt an involuntary

• The troubles In Romclia rendered a jourçer to Constantinople by land ab- icffotelj imçmctîcable.


emotion. I followed him with my eyes, reflecting that hè wis going to revisit alone the deserts which we had seen together. It struck me also that this Turk and I should never meet again, that we should neyer more hear of each other. I represented la myself the lot of this man, so different from my lot, his joys and his griefs so different from my joys and my griefs, and all to ar» rive at the same point at hist : — ^he in the spacious and beautifol cemeteries of Greece ; and myself, by the road, or in the suborbs of somp city.

This separation took place in the evening of the same day that I visited the French convent ; for the janissaiy had received inti- mation to hold himself in readiness to return to Coron. I set off in the night for Keratia with Joseph and an Athenian who was going to pay a visit to his relations in Zea. This young Gbtedc was our guide. M. Fauvel accompanied me to the gate of the city, where we mutually bade adieu, and expressed our wishes that we might soon meet again in our common country.

I was very glad that I left Athens at night. I should have felt too strong a regret to turn my back on its ruins by day-light* As it was, like Hagar, I beheld not what I was losing forever. I laid the bridle on the neck of my horse, and following Joseph and the guide, relinquished the reins also to my imagination, which was employed the whole way with a curious reverie. I fiuicied that Attica was given to me in full sovereignty. I published through- out Europe, that all who were weary of revolutions and desiroo» of enjoying peace might repûr to the ruins of Athens, where I promised them security and repose. I constructed roads, built inns, and provided all sorts of accommodations for travellers ; I purchased a harbour on the gulf of Lepanto, to abridge and fecil- itate the passage from Otranto to Athens. It is natural to sup- pose that the edifices were not neglected : all the masterpieces of the citadel were rebuilt on the same sites, and as neariy as possi- ble after their former plans. The city, encompassed with good walls, was secured from the depredations of the Turks. I found- ed an university, to which the youth of all Europe resorted to learn the ancient and tlie vulgar Greek. I invited the Hydriot», to settle at the Pyroeus, and I created a navy. The naked moun- tains were clothed with pines to give back their waters to my n- vers : I encouraged agriculture : numbers of Swiss and Germans

• \-


- mingled with my Albaoians : every day brought to light new dia- ooveries, and Athens arose from her tomb. On reaching Keratia I awoke from my dream, and found myself the same Giles JoU es belb)re*

We had turned the Hymettus, and passed to the Southward of the P^itelicuB ; then striking off for the sea, we proceeded among the hills belonging to the chain of Motmt Laurium, in which the Athenians of old had mineà of silver. This part of Attica was never much celebrated. Qetween the Pfaalereas and Cape Su- nimn were situated several towns and villages, as Anaphlystus, Azenia, Lampra, Anagyrus, Alimiis, Thotœ, iSxone, &c. Whee- ler and Chandler made uiqiroducttve excursions in this deserted tract ; and M. Lechevaiier crossed the teine desert on bis way to Albena from Cape Sunium where hé landed. The interior of this district was still less known and thinner of inhabitants thail the coasts ; and ï ani at a loss what Origin to assign to the village of Keratia.* It is si^ated in â very fertile valley, among hills which overlook it on every side, and whose sides are covered with sage, Tosemary, and myrtles. The bottom of the valley is cultivated, and the possessions of the different proprietor^ are divided by qiiickset hedges, as they formerly were tn Attica, and as they commonly are in Bretagne and in England. Birdâ abound in this part of the country, especially the hoopoe, the wood-pi- geoo, the red partridge, and the hooded crow. Thé village con- feists of about a dozen houses, very iteat^ and standing detached. On the hills browse great numbers ef goats and sheep ; and in the valley are seen hogs, asses, horses, and a fbw cows.

We alighted on the 2tth, at the house of an Albanian, an ac- l|uaintanee of M. Fauvet's. I hastened, immediately, oii tùy ar- rival, to ah eminence eastward of the vilhige, to tiy whether I could discover the Austrian ship : nothmg wad to be seen but the sea and the island of ^ea. In the evening at sunset a lire was kmdled with myrtle and heath on the top of a mountam ; and a goat-herd stationed on ûté coast was to apprise us of the approach of the boats from Zea as soon as He should perceive them com*

• Mearsius in his treatise DepopuUs Jttica, speaks of the village of éemos Tu^itLttUy of the tribe of Hippotheontis. Spon finds a Sv^tm/cu, in the tribe ofAeamentis ; bnt he farnlshes no mserimion» and «ipporU the assertion onlj Vf a popage in Uesyohras.



ÎDg. Tbe me of fire-aignalfi is of very high antiquity, ancT ÎM tanûûieà Homer with one of the finest similes in the Itiad :

" Thus you lee ft smoke asoendrng from the lop of the towers of a eity be- sieged 1bj enemies."

Repairiiig the following morning to the s^al hilT, I took my gun with me and amuaed mjself with shooting. It was just die hottest part of the day, and I received a coup de aoleU on one of my hands and part of my head. The thermometer had stooA eondnually at 28^ during my stay at Atliens*. The most ancient map of Greece, that of Sophian, fixed the Fatitude of Athens at Bl^ 10- to 12' : Vemm made it 38 5/ ; and M* Chabert haa finiaHy determined it to be 37® 58"^ V for the temple of Minerva. In so southern a latitude, in the month of August, the sun must naturally be very powerful. At ni^bt, baring wn^ped ugrself in my cloak, I was^ going to lie down on my mat, when I felt my head grow extremely confused. Our establishment Was none of the most commodious for a sick person. We lay upon the floor in the only room, or rather in the shed of our host,^ with our head» next the wall. I was placed between Joseph and the young Athe- nian ; over our pfllows were suspended the household utensils ; W9 that my host's dau^ter, liimseif, and his men, had to step over us» whenever they came to fetch any thing they wanted, or to hanjf it up again. '

If ever in my life I gave way for a moment to despair, I think it was on this occasion, when seized with a violent fever, I found that my senses were failing me, and that I was growing dilirious ; my impatience aggravated the disease. How unfortunate to be all at once stopped short by this accident ! to be detained by the fever in an obscure place; in the hut of an Albanian i O that I had but remained at Athens ! that I had expired on the bed of ho- nour, with my eyes fixed on the Parthenon ! But even if this fever should not prove fatal, yet if it lasted but a few days, it might to* tally derange my plans. The pilgrims for Jerusalem would be gone ;. the season would be past What was I to do in the Bast 1 To gp to Jerusalem by land ? or to wait another year ? France,^

^ M.FaaTel informed me that the heat TexyofteD rises ta aS and 34*

S0t9T| àHD BiJLBA^T. 171

aj trSeiub, my^projeefs, my vfoA which I ehoidd teare xatiaUth «d, alternately occupied my mind. All night Joseph kept giving me large pitchers of water to drinl^ but notiiing could quench my thirst. The floor on which I lay, was literally bathed with sweat ; and it was this copious perspiration that sared my Ufa. I was for a short time perfectly delirious, and began si^ging thf eong of Henry IV. ^ 0 IHo /" exclaimed Joseph in the deepest affliction, '< che questo? II signor eania ! FowreU^t^*

The fever abated about nine ia the morning of the 29th, aft^r overwhelming me for seventeen hours. If I had had a second attack of equal violence, I think I could not have gojt over it The goat-herd returned with the unpleasant intelligence that no boats from Zea had yet made their appearance. I made an ex- ertion and wrote Uï M. Fauvel requesting him to send a vessel to take me up at the nearest point of the coast to the viUage where I was, and cany me to Zea. While I was writing, my host told me a long story and begged my interest in his behalf with M. Fauvel. I endeavoured to satisfy him ; but my head . was so weak that I could scarcely guide the pen* The young Ch^ek set out for Athens with my letter, undertakjusg to bring a vessel himseli^ if any were to be founds

I passed the whole day on my mat The people of the housa were gone abroad ; Joseph too was out, and not a creatore was left with me but the daughter of my host» She was a handsome girl of seventeen or eighteen, and went about barefoot and with her hair covered with medals and si^all pieces of money. She took no notice of me ; but continued her work just as though I had not been there» The door was open, the sun shone in at the door, and this was the only place for the admission of light into the apartment I dosed from time to time, and on awakening I still saw the Albanian g}ri engaged in something or other, sing- ing m a low tone, and arranging her hair or some part of her dress. I asked her sometimes for wi^r : nero ! She brou^t me a mug full, and crossing her arms waited with patience tilt I ha^ finished drinkii^ ; and when I had done, she woul4 say : kaio ?— . is that right ? and return to her woric. Amid the silence of noon nothing was to be heard but the buszing of the 0ies in the hut^ and the crowing of some cocks out i doors. My head felt va- csnt, as |s usual after a l^ng attack of fever ; mj eyes weafceii94

Ifir TRAVELS IN C»£i:CS| rAIiBftTIllS, •

by the Tioleoce of the disorder, beheld a muHitade of Bpaiks aii^f glohules of light dascmg about me; I had none but confused, though soothing ideas.

Thus passed the day : in the evening I was much better and got up. I slept well the fo|lowi|ig night, and' on the morning of the 30th, the Greek returned with a letter from M. Fauvel^ some Jesuit's bark, Malaga wine, and favourable intelligence. By the greatest accident in the world a bo^t had been procured ; tliU boat bad set out from the Phalereus with a fair wind, and was to wait for me hi a small creek, two leagues from Keratia. For this place I had conceired such an aversion, that I immediately prepared for my departure, A shivering came over me : I foresaw the re- tarn of my fever, and took without hesitation a triple dose of bark. I have always been convinced that the French physicians administer this medicine with too much precaution and timidity. The horses were brought and we set out with a guide. In less than half an hour, all the symptoms of a reli^se were dispelled ; and I recovered all my hopes. We proceeded westward through a narrow valley that runs between sterile mountains. After riding an hour we descended into a beautiful plain which had an ex^ tremely fertile appearance ; then changing pur direction, we tam- ed directly south across the plain, and reached the high lands which formed, unknown to me, the promontories ojf the coast ; foi after we had passed a defile, we all at once perceived the se^ and our vessel moored at the/oot of a rock. At the sight of this bark, I thought myself delivered from the evil geidus, which would have buried me in the mines of Athenians, perhaps to p^- ^sh me for my contenipt of Plutus.

We sent back our horses with the guide, and went on board our vessel which was managed by three men. They hoisted our sail, and favoured by a south wind we steered towards Gape fianium. 1 know not, if the bay we set out fl*om be that which, according to M. Fauvel, is called Anaviso ; but I did not see the ruins of Enneapyrgie, the Nine Towers, where Wheeler halted on the way from €ape Sunium. The Asinia of the ancients must have stood nearly in this place. About six in the evening , we passed within the Isle of Asses, formerly the island of Patro- cltts -, and at sun-set entered the Port of Sunium, a creek she^

&6TFT, AKD BABBAftY. 175

tered ^ die rock which supporta the mms of the ttmple. We leaped on shore, and I clambered to the summit of the cape*

The Greeks excelled not less in the choice of the sites of their édifices, than in the architecture of the edifices themselves. Most of the promontories of the Péloponnèse, of Attica, Ionia, and the ishmds of the Archipelai^ were crowned with temples, trophies, or tombs. These monuments surrounded with woods and rocks, viewed in all the accidents of hght, sometimes enveloped in sable thunder clouds, at others reflecting the soft beams of the moon, the golden rajs of the setthig sun, or the radiant thits of Aurora, must have knpartcd incomparable beauty to the coasts of Greece^ Thus decorated, the land presented itself to the mariner under the features of the ancient Oybele, who crowned with towers, and seated on the shore, connnanded her son Neptune to pour forth his waves at her feet.

Christianitj to which we are indebted for the only species of architecture conformable to our manners, also tau^t us the pro- per fidtuations for our genuine monuments. Our chapels, our abbies, our monasteries were scattered among woods and upon the summits of hills : not that the choice of sites was always a premeditated design of flie architect; but, because an art, when iu unison with the customs of a nation, adopts instinctively the best method that can be pursued. Oi»erve, on the other hand, haw badly our edifices, imitated from the antique, are in general placed. Did we ever think, for instance, of adorning the only emin- ence that ovedooks Paris 1 Religion alone thou^t of this for OS. The modem Grecian structures resemble the corrupt lan- guage which is now spoken at Sparva and Athens ; in vain you may insiat that it is the language of Homer and of PUto ; a med- ley of gross words and foreign idioms every moment betrays the barbarians. , 6uch were my reflections on beholding the temple of Sunium. lUs temple was of the Doric order, and of the time when archi- tecture flourished. I surveyed, in the distance, the sea of the Archipelago with all its islands ; the setting sun shed its radiance over the coasts of Zea and the fourteen beautiful columns of white marble, at whose feet I was seated. The sage and the jaiuper diffused an aromatic fragrance around the ruins, and the i(|urmur of tfie waves beneath scarcely reached my ear.


As Oie wind bad lolled, we were obliged towaitfor afireab breese before we could depart Our sailors threw themselves along the bottom of the boat and fell asleep. Josefrfi and tha young Greek continued with me. After taking a little refmh^ ment and conversing for some time, they went to sleep also^-» Throwing my cloak over my head to protect my self from the dew, and reclining against a column, I alone remained awake, contemplating the sea and the skies*

The most beautiful sun-set was succeeded by the most lovely night The firmament reflected in the water, seemed to rest oa the bottom of the sea. The evening star, the faithful eompanioii of my way, was ready to sink belpw the horison ; it was p^rcepti*, ble only from the long rays which it threw, from time to time, upon the waves beneath, like the flashes of an expiring taper, A. momentary breeze now and then ruffled the image of the heavena in the bosom of the deep ; agitated the constellations ; and died away with a gentle murmur among the colonms of the temple.

This spectacle was, however, cheerless, when I reflected that I was contemplating it amidst ruins. Around nae, on the one band, were tombs, silence, destruction and death, on the other, a few Greek sailors sleeping, without cares and without dreams, upon the relics of Greece. I was going to quit forever this sacred soil : my mind filled with its past greatness, and its present de- iiasement renewed the picture by which my eye had so recently been pamed.

I am not one of those intrepid admirers of antiquity, whom a Terse of Homer consoles for every thing, neithercould I eve? comprehend the sentiment esfbressed by Lucretius :— -

Suave mari nuigno, turbantilnu tsqaora ventU, E terra magnum alterius speotare laborem.

80 far from receiving pleasure from contemplating on shore the shipwreck of other», I feel pain myself when I behold my fellow- Creatures in distress : tlie Muses have then no power over me, unless it be that which excites pity for misfortunes. CrQ.d forbid that I should fall at the present day, into those declan^ations which have brought such calamities upon our country ; but if I had çyer thought^ with men for whose character and talents I b^vp


Otherwise the higheél respect, that an absolute gOYemment is the hest of all goTemments, a few months' residence in Turkey would hare completely cured me of that opinion.

The travellers who are content to yiût civilised Europe are extremely fortunate : they peneùnte not into those once cele- brated regions where flie heart is wounded at every step ; where living ruins every moment divert the attention from the ruins of stone and marble. In vahi would yon give full scope in Greece to the illusions of the imagination : the mournful truth incessantfy pnrsues you. Cabins of dried mud more fit for the abode of brute animals than of man ; women and chUdren in rags, runiiing away at tiie approach of the stranger and the janissary ; the af- frighted goats tiiemselves scouring over the hills, and the dogs afone remaining to receive you with their bailing — ^such is the scene that dispels the charm which fancy would fain throw over the objects before you.

The Pelopomiese is a desert. Since the Russian expedldon, the Turkish yoke has borne with increased weight on the inhabi- tants of the Morea. . Part of its population has been slaughtered by the Albanians. Nothing meets the eye but villages destroyed with fire and sword. In the towns, as at Misitra, whole suburbs are deserted; and I have often travelled fifteen leagued in the country without coming to a single habitation. Grinding oppres- Qon, outrages of every kind complete the destruction of agricul- ture and human life. _ To drive a Greek peasant from his cabin» to carry off his wife and children, to put him to death on the flfightest pretext, is mere sport with the lowest aga of the most msiguificant village. Reduced to the lowest depth of misery, the Horean abandons his native land, and repairs to Asia in quest of a lot less severe. Vain hope ! He cannot escape his destiny : he there finds other cadis and other pachas, even in the sands of Jordan, and in the deserts of Palmyra.

Attica, with somewhat less wretchedness, is not less com- pletely enslaved. Athens is under the inmiediate protection of the chief of the black eunuchs of the seraglio. A disdar or go- vernor is the representative of the monstrous protector among the people of Solon. This disdar resides in the citadel, filled with the master-pieces of Phidias and Ictinus, without inquiring wtiat nation left these remains behind it^ without deigning to step


feeyood theflirtriiold of the mean habitation wUcb he has hvOlt tor hkaaelf under the ruins of the monuments of Pericles : except ▼eiy rarely irhen this automaton shuffles to the door of his denj •iqaats €rûe8ed*l^;ed on a dirty carpet, and while the smokf Irom his pipe ascends between the columns of the temple of SDoerva, eyes with vacant stare the shores of Salanûs and the sea «f j^daurus.

You would suppose that Greece herself intended, by the moum- %og which she wean, to announce the wretchedness of her children» The country in genenal is uncultivated, bare, mono- ionous^ wild, and the ground of a yellow hue, the colour of with- ered herbage. Theie are no rivers that deserve the appellation^ but smaU streams and torrents which are dry in sumnier. No farm-houses, or scarcely any, are to be seen in the country ; you observe no husbandmen, you meet no carts, no teams of oxen. — Nothing can be more melancholy than never to be able to dia- eover the marks of modem jvrfaeels, where you still perceive in flie rock tiie traces of ancient ones. A few peasants in tunics» with red caps on their heads, like the galley-slaves at Marseilles^ dolefuHy wish you as they pass KaU ^ercL, good morning. Before them they drive asses or small horses with rough coats, which are aufficient to cany th«r scanfy^ rustic equipage, or the produce of their vineyard. Bound this desolate region with a sea almost b$ solitary ; place on the declivity of a rock a dilapidated watch- ' tower, a forsaken convent ; let à minaret rise from the midst ojf the desert to announce the empire of slaveiy ; let a herd of goata^ or a number of sheep, browse upon a cape among columns in ndtts ; let the turban of a Turk put the herdsman to flight, and render the road still more lonely ; and you will have an accurate idea of the picture which Greece now presents.

Inquiries have been made into the cause of the decline of the lioman empire : a fair field is open for the writer who would inj vestigate the causes that hastened the M of Greece. The de- cline of Athens and Sparta was not owing to the same reasons that oecanoned the ruin of Rome : they were not crushed by their own weight and by the magnitude of their empire ; neither can it be asserted that tliey perished by their wealth. The gold of the allies and tlie abundance which commerce diffused at Athens, were, at the highest, but trifling; never were there seen

iHteiÉg their eiâseUs examples of those colossiil f<tftaiies wtàA announce a change of maUxîers f and the state was éMi^b 9ù paàf, that the kings of Asia contributed to support it, or to defraj fbe expense of its edifices. With respect to Sparta, Aou^ fbm wealth of (he Persians might corrupt] a few individaals, yet the republic itself was never raised abore in^gence.

As the primary cause then of the fall of the Greeks, I shooU assign the war which the two republica waged with each othei^ later they had conquered the Persians. Athens ceased to exist as a state, fiSDm the moment that it was taken by the Lacediemo- tiSans. An absolute conqtiest puts an eM to the existence of i^ nation, by whatever name it may be afterwards known in historjRi ^e vices of the Athenian government paved the way to tiie Vicioty of Lacedsemon. A purely democratic state is the worst off all governments, when it has to contend with a powerful ejieh Èfyj and one single will is necessary for the safety of the country* Nothing could be more deplorable- than the in&hmtion of the people of Athens, while the Spartans were at their gates. Altera &tely banishing and recalling the citizens, Who alone were able (o sflEve the state, and complying with the suggestions of factious oràtorô, tlfey shared the fate which they had deserved by thdr follies ; and if Athens was not razed to the ground, it owed its' I^Veservadon solely to the respect of the conquerors for its ancient vîlftues.

LacédSBinon, now triumphant, found in her turn, the principal âLuse of her rum in her own institutions* Modesty-, whi^ an extraordinary law had expressly trampled under foot hi order tor préservée that modesty, was finally overthrown by tiiis very UW. fhe women of Sparta, who exposed themselves half naked to the view of the other sex, became the most corrupt in Greece^ and nothing was left to the Lacedsemoniahs of all their unnatural fews, but debauchery and cruelty. Cifcero,who was an eye wit- . néss of the pastimes of the Spartan boys, represents them a^ feaûring each other to pieces with teettf and nàîls. Aiid what endf Wto answered by these brutal institutions t Did they preserve the^ independence of Sparta ? It was not worth while to educat« 

  • Great fortoMAft •ueh » that of Herode« Attiotts vcre not aceuraalsted tt

Athens, till the time of the Roaaa empire.



Iskea Mke ferociouB beasts, for the purpose of obey ing^ the tytWKt Nabi»^ and becoming slaves to the Romans.

The best principles may be carried to excess and become dangerous. Lycurgus, by extirpating ambition in Laeedmne»^ designed to save the republic^ but actually eccadoned its hbb». Had the Spartans, after the humiliation of Athens, reduced Greece into Laeedemonian provinces, they would perhaps have made themselves the masters of the universe : a conjecture tha more probable, since, ivithout any pretemlan to these high de«^ tinies, they shooic, in Asia,, weak as they were, ttke empire of the great king. Their successive victories would have prevented the erection, in the neighbourhood of Greece, of any powerM monarchy, for the conquests of the republies. Lacediemon, bf incorporating with herself the nations vanquifihed 1^ her i would have crushed Philip in his cradle ; the great men who ^ her enemies, would have been her subjects ; and Alexander, in- stead of being born under a monarchy, would have sprung like Giesar from the bosom of a republic.

Instead of being aatnated by this a^iring spirit, and this pie* servative ambition, the Lacedfemonians, content with having set up thirty tyrants at Athens, immediately relumed to their valleys, out of that love of obscurity incnlcated by their laws. In.Ûiia respect, a nation is not like an individual ; that moderation ki fortune, and that fondness for repose, which may be veiy becoia«  ing in a citizen, will never do for a state. Never ou^t it, iadead,. to engage in an impious war ; never should it purchase glory at ^ price of injustiee ; but not to know how to profit by its posi- tion, how to honour, how to aggrandise,, and to strengthen itself is rather a deficiency of genius than a virtuous sentiment in» nation.

Whatwasthe consequence of this conduct in the Spartans? Macedonia soon became mistress of all Greece : Philip dictated laws to the council of Amphyetions. On the other hand, the fee- ble empire of Laconia,, founded only on military renown, and mt anpported by real strength, fell to the ground. Epaminondai appeared : the Lacediemonians, defeated at Leuetra, were obliged to enter into a long justification of themselves before the con* q[lieror ; and heard this cruel observation : *' We have pot an end to ^onr Laeonic eloigiuenee P JV09 brtpi ebfjumtiœ veiimjmcm


The Spartans muet then have been sendble how advantageoiiB it would have been for them to have combined all tttt cUie»,oC Greece into one dtate; to have numbered Epaminon- lin» «noi^ their generalâ and^their citizens. The secret of their «MsakaesB being once known, all was hrretrievaMj lost; and Phi- iopœmen completed what Epaminondas had begun.

Here we have a memorable example of the superiority \diich kiters give to one nation over another, when that nation has, be- aides, displayed militaiy virtues. It may be asserted that the battles of Leuctra and Mantinea effaced the name of Sparta from the earth; whereas Athens, though taken by the Lacedœmodians and plondered by SyHa, still retained her empire. She had the gmtifioaeoB to see those Remans, by whom she had been con- iqaefed, thronging to her bosom, and making it their pride to be •ecounted her sons: one assumed the surname of Atticus; another declared himself the disciple of Plato and Demosthenes. n» Latin mnses, Lncretius, Horace, and Virgil, incessantly cel- ebrated the praises of the Queeq of Greece. I forgive the liv- ing for the sake of the dead," exclaimed the greatest of the Csaars, when pardoning the guilty Athenians. Adrian annexed io Ins imperial title that of Archon of Athens, and increased the Bunber of the master-pieces of the land of Pericles. Constan- tine the Cbreat was so flattered by the erection of a statue in bon* ear of him at Athens, that he loaded the city with favours. Ju- Xan shed tears on quitting the Academy, and when triumfdiant, he ascribed his victory to the Afinerva of Phidias. A« Chrysos- tom, a Basil, a Cyril, came like a Cicero and an Atticus, to study ^oquence at its source, and till the middle ages, Athens was de- nominated the School of Science and of Geidus. When Europe was roused from barbarism, her first thought was directed to Athens. " What is become of Athens V* was the universal cry : and when it was known that her ruins still existed, the learned and the ingenious flocked thither as if they had discovered the lest ashes of a parent.

How different from this renown is that derived from arms alone ! While the name of Athens is in every mouth, Sparta is totally foigotten. We see her under Tiberius, plead and lose a ^ctty cause gainst the Messemans^we read, twice over, the (laasage in Tacitus, to make surç that it Is to the celebrated «!!#-

160 flRAYZf^ m ÇEfRCEi ^U^V^TINEi

çedœmoii l^e alludiBs. Borne centon/es afterw)|pd8 we 6i|^ a,^ cedsmoniaii guard abolit the pepofi of Caracal)» ; f^ dismal (^^|• our which seems to diow that the off^pripg of Ljcurgifs 9^ retained their ferocity» At Ipogth Sparta w^ trafisfbnxiedy i^n^ngjp the Greek empire ipto a ridiçuloiis pjr^cipalily, w^os/b nilfSirB ^ 8umed the title of Despots, m epithet since t^i&cq^^e syi^nymoi^ with that of tyrant; i^nd a ^s\udit^i, w)^o usaert themselves to be the genuine descendant^ of th^ Lgceds^^fiiaps/ qop^tit^te at present all the glory of Spartfi. ;,

I have not seen enough of th^ modem Greeks to vei^^i^r^ to form an opii^ion respecting their character. Full wel) I ItP^W how easy it is to slander th^ unfortup^ te ; nothing is mqre iiiiti? ral than for tliose who are secure frpm all danger, tp s^ : " W\fy do they not break tlie yoke pnder which they groan ?" Ai^y flC|f^ may express in his own chipmey corner these loft^ sen^ent«^ and this proud spirit of independence. B^si^eSf decisive op4f4iWi abound in an age when nothing is doubted but the ei^^fe^W^ of God. But as the general opipions which we form qf ^t^oiift. are very often contradicted by* «:f peqence, I shall l^^are of forming any. I merely think that there is still abundance of genius in Greece ; I even think tha| our masters in every l|iie still r^fii^ there : just as I conceive that l)iiman nature still presçrv^ % superiority at Home ; by which, I ^puld not be undefatood to a^; that siiperior men are iiow to be found in that city.

But, at the same time, I fear that the Greeks are not tcia well disposed to break their chains. If even they yf^ve rçlease^ from the tyranny which oppresses theiQ} they woul^ not lose in f moment the marks of their fetters. They have pot only beej|| crushed beneath the weight of despotism, but for these two thousand years they have been a superannuated and degrade^ nar; tion. They have not been renoyatf 4 Hke thç rest of Europe» h^ barbarous nations; and the very nation whick has conquered them has contributed to their corruption. That nation has not introduced among them the rude and savage manners of thç, natives of the north, but the voluptuo,u^ i^ustonpis of southern cUme6« To s^y notliing of the reti^i^ çiîme which the Greeks lifould have committed m abjuring their altars, they would h^ve gaiucd nothing by the adoption of the Koran. In the book of Iffdioipçt, (here is no prpiciple of civ^lisaUop» ^ precept tbul


MOTfTf Jim» «AUâsr. in

MU fd^NDtélerafion to the character: tliatlKM»ki8CiiIc&teiliieiaM# a katred of fymmy, mm a lore of iodApendeiieè. In embraeiog fhe reii^on of tbeir rulers, the Qr^tkA would have renoonced Ihe arts» seiencesy and lettersi to becoma the soldiers of ferianey and blindly abef the caprice of aa ahaiAite soreraiga. Th^ iroitid hare speid thdr Utcs fai rvragiiig the worid, or in sluni' bering on a carpet amongst women and perfumes.

The same impartiality which oUiges me to speak of the Greeks wiOi the respect which is dne to misfortune, would havo prerented me from treating the Turks with the sererily which I do, lûid I seen among them any thing besides the abuses which are too common among conquerhig nations. Unfortunately re- publican soldiers are not more just masters than the satellites of a dffspot; and a proconsul waslnot less rapacious than a pacha.* Bnt the Turks are not ordmary oppressors, though they have found apologists. A proconsul might be a monster of lust, of avarice and of cruelty, but all the proconsuls did not delight, systematically and from a spirit of religion, in overthrowing the monuments of civilisatiQn and the arts, in cutting down trees, hi destroying harvests, nay, even whole generations ; and this ia done hy the Turks every day of their lives. Is it conceivable Ihat there should exist lyrants so absurd as to oppose every im- pfDvement In things of the first necessity ? A bridge falls down, it is not built up aj^iin. A man repairs his house, he becomes die vicdm of extortion^ I have seen Greek captains run the risk of shipwreck with their tattered sails, rather than mend them ;

. * The RomaM, Hke the Torks, frequently redoeec) those -whom they had eon- (piered to slarerj. But if I may he allowed to say what 1 think, in my opinion, this Bystem of slavery was one of the causes of the superiority of the g^eat men of Aâke»s and Rome over those of modéra times. It is certain that you cannot ex- ec^ise aU the fteuUies ef tlie mind except when yoa are relieved from the mate- rial «ares of life ; and you are not wholly relieved from these cares, but in coun- tries where the arts^ trades, and domestic occupations are relinquished to slaves. The service of the man whom you hire, who leaves yo» when he pleases» whose AegBgence or whose viees you are obliged to pat up with, cannot be compared vith the service of him whose life and death are in your hands, ll is likewise certain that the habit of absolute oommand imparts an elevation to the mind, and a dignity to the manners which can never be acquired in the equality of our cities. But let us not regiret this superiority of the ancients, since it was not to be purchased but at the expense of the liberty of mankind, and Ictus bless Christianity, which htis l>ar>t (b« bonds aqd brakeo the fetters of aervittide.


«o apprehennre are thej lest their iadustry shonld excite was- liicioBs of affloenee. Finafij, had I found in the Turks free and Tirtoous dtizeoB at home, tiiongb ungenerous to conquered nations, I had been «lent, and secretly sighed over the im'^ perfection of human nature : but to behold in one and the same per- son the tyrant of the Greeks and the slave of the Grand Signor; the executioner of a defenceless people, and the servile wretch whom a pacha has the power to plunder of his property, to tie up in a leather sack and throw into the sea— this indeed was too much, and I know not the brute but what I would prefer to mch Amaa. • » « 

The reader will perceive that I did not indulge on Cape Sik ittum in the most romantic ideas — ideas which, nevertheless, Éhe beauty of flie scene might be expected to excite. Being <nr. the point of quitting Greece, I naturally reviewed the history of that countiy; I strove to discover in the ancient prosperitgr «f Sparta and* Athens, the cause of their present degradation, anA in their present lot the germs of their future destiny. The dasb^ ing of the sea against the rock gradually growing more violent «prised me that the wind had risen,*and that it was time to co»«  tiaue my voyage. I awoke Joseph and his companion. We- went down to the vessel, where our sailors had already made: the necessary preparations for our departure. We stood out to sea, and the breexe, which blew from the land, rapidly wafted ua towards Zea. As we withdrew from the shore, the cohims of Snnium appeared more beautiibi above the waves : we could per* fectly distinguish them on the anire sky, from their extreme whiteness and the serenity of the night. We irere at a con8i>* derable distance from the cape when we could still hear the breaking of the surges against the foot of the rock, the murmur* ing of the wind among the junipeMrees, and the chirping of tt» grasshoppers, the only modem inhabitants of the ruins of the lieniple. These were the last sounds that met my ear on Ol$- ajkoresof Greece.


Thb ifllaDd» ifriiich I wfis now* about to travene, fomed, kl aneient timej, a kind of bridge thrown oyer the sea, to connecè Asiatic Greece whb the original Greece. Free or dependent^ MlDwing the fortunes of Sparta or of Athens, of the Pernam 0tQ£ Alexander and his successors, they fell at length under the Soman yoke. Attemately wrested from Ûie Greek empire by Ihe Ven6tiai«i,.the Genoese, the Catalans, and the Neapoiitans^ fliey had their own princes and dukes, who assmned the general title of dttkes of the Archipelago. Finally the suitttii» of Asi» appeared on the coasts of the Alediteraneas, and to proclaim to that sea its future destiny, they ordered salt water, sand, and an oar, to be brought to tiiem. The islands were nevertheless MiMued the hist : but al length they shared the general fate ; and the I^Uin banner, drive» farther and farther by the crescent, was unable to make a stand till it reached the shores of Corfu*

In eonseqnenee of these straggles of the Greeks, the Turk» and the Latins, the islands of the Archipelago were periecly welt known in the middle ages : they were in the way of ail those fleet» which carried our armies or pilgrims to Jerasalem, Constantino- flftj Egypt, and Barbary ; they became the stations of all those Genoese and Venetian ships which revived the commerce with India by the port of Alexandria. Thus we find the names oC Cldo, Lesbos, and Rhodes, in every page of Byzantine history; and while Athens and Laeedsmon were fin^otten, the world was acquainted with the fortune of the smallest rock of the Archipelago.

Numberless are, moreover, the travels in those islands,, com- mencing so- early as the seventh century : there is not a pilgrim- age to the Holy Land, but what begins with a description of some of the rocks ef Greece. As kx back as 1555; Belon published

in French fais Oèaenaiùnw tm varitm» CurioÊ/Uies âbe&ifefeâ ki Greece ; Tonraefort'e Travda is in every bodj's hands ; the Correei DescripHon of the Islands of the ArMpelagOy by Dapper, a Fieming, is an excellent work i anâ there is- na reader but what has seen the Views of M. de Ghoiseul.

We had a fine passage. At eight in the morning of August the SÙlby we entered the port pf Zea. It is capacious^ but has a dreary and desert appearance from the height of the surroundbig coast Under the rocks that skhrt the beach, you perceive aething but ioiM chapels m rutns, and the magaskicfs belonging «9 m» eosÊomè. The village of Zea stands opon a hill, a leftgtf(» itf ftttfettTof the harbour, and occupies the site of the aneienl CMMa. On my anfval I saw oiriy two or three Greek Mae* en», and gave up all hopes of meeting with my Austrian vessels Iieafhig Jos^ al the port, I proceeded to the village with Ûm fWSÊg AlleniaiL The road to it is rugged and wild : this ih«l l^iOipeet <tf an Irimid of the Archipelago was none of the nioei agreeM^, M; I was accoilAmed to disappointments.

Zea, buM in the manaep of an amphitheatre on the MéqiDrf A^etivit^B ef a Ml, Is but a 'dirty Mid un^easmt villi^, tilough iMny poptthRis^ The asses, the hogs, the fowls, ahnost obstmei your passage through the streets, and there are such prodlpenri numbers of cocks, and these cocks crow so often and so loud^ ' that you are absolutely stunned. I went to the house of M. Fe»^ gali, the French vice^onsul at Zea, told him who I was, whence 1 came, and whither I wanted to go ; and requested him t» Mi^ me a vessel to carry me to Ohio or to Smyrna.

M. PengaB recdved me with ihe utmost cordially. Bis soflf firent down to the harbour, virtiere he found a galley-boat that War fetundng to Tino, and was to sail tiie following day./ I resoivetf to" avafl myself of this opportunity, which would at any rate set me forward a little on my way.

The vice-consul insisted on my being his guest, at least for Ûté remainder of the day. He had four daughters, and the eldest was just going to be married : preparations were already making^ for the nuptials ; so that I passed from the ruins of the temple of tSunium to a festival. What a singular destiny is that of the tm- veller ! In the morning, he leaves one host in tears, at night he âiids pother in joy; he becomes the depositaiy of a itMUÊDé

dèenfeis; ihmhkn htA related to im at Spaila all the qanptoma «I tke diaeafle of th« little Turk ; and at Zea I was made acquaint* <d with the hbtory of the son-ki-law of M« Pengali. Can a^ ttiiq; be more pleaaiiig than this unaffected hoafHtality 1 Are yoi^ not too fortunate to be thus reeeived in places where 70U would not otherwise meetgi4ih the smallest accommodation 7 The con- fidenoe wfaicb you excite, the frankness which is manifested to- wards yoit, the pleasure which your ccHnpanj apparentlly and really affi>rds9 are certainly high gratifications. Another cirewn-. stance abo made a deep Impression upon me, and that was th^ «■Rl^ieity witibi which I was charged with yarious commissiona for iVance, Constantinople,, and Egypt Services were asked cf me «rkh as little resenre as they wene Rendered ; my hosts wer^ pcasuaded that I would not forget them^ and that they had be- came my friends. I sacrificed to M. Pengali the mins of lonlis» wfaieh I liad at first intended to viut, and determined, like lj\y$- ses, to partksipate In the festivities of AristonoiiB.

Zea, the andent Ceos, was celebrated in antiqm^^ for a cna- ttfm wfaiek existed also among the Celts, and which has been firand to prevaii among the savages of America : the aged pe<>- ple at Ceos put an end to thdr own lives. Aristœns, wiiose bees sie «uag by Virgil, or some other Aiisteus, king .of Arcadia, i^ fired to Ceos. It was he who obtained of Jupiter the Etesian irinds to moderate the intense heat of the dog-days. Crasistratus, tke physician, and Aristo, the philosopher, wejre natives of the . town of ioiilis, like Simonides and Bacchylides, bv the latter at niiom we have some very indifferent verses, in the PoeUe Grmci- mkMru. Simonides was a superior genius : but his understand- lag w^ more elevated than hisheart ; he cekbcated Hipparchus, who ikad loaded him with fiivours, and he celebrated likewise the taasslns of that prince. It was probably to give this example «f virtne, that the just gods of paganism preserved Simonides in the fidl of a house. We must accommodate ourselves to the fimes, says Le Sage: accordingly, the ungrateful shake, off the burden of gratitude, the ambitious desert the vanquished; and cowards range tiiemselves on the side of the conqueror. Mar- vaUons wisdom of man, whose maxims ever superfluous for cour* age and virtue, serve only as a pretext for vice, 4nd an excuse

for baseness of heart f

C c

l^t TBAVBL8 Iff «HUCEi riSKtlKXy

Tbe commerce of Zea at preseiit conùsto of tiie*aeiiiw 9t1Êm Telanf , a epeeies of oak, which are ueed in dying. The riik gauae worn by the ancients, was invented at Ceos.* The poets, to eonr Tey im idea of its fineness and transparency, called it «oven mtuk ZetL sell funnshes silk. " The womer of SSm," says Toumefort, generally assemble in companit&s to 8|itor*8ilk9 and they seat themselves on the edge of the terraces at the top of the houses, that they may drop the spindle down to the street, and draw it op again as they wind the thread. In this attitode we found the Greek bishop : he inquired who we were, and told us that onr^e- eolMitionB were extremely frivolous, if we came fuày to look tot plants and old pieces of marble. We repliedv that we shonld lie much more edified to see him with the worlcs of 8t Chrysostom or 8t Basil in his hand^ than twirling the spindle."

I had continued to tidte three doses of bark a day: the-fisver had not returned, but I remained veiy weak, and one of my^ hands as well as one ode of my face still looked, black Irom the effeot of the coup de soleil. I was therefore a guest with a very light heart, but of a verj sorry appearance» That I mig^t not taak Hke an unfortunate relation, i mademyself meny at the wedding My host set me an example of fortitude-: he was at this momeat suffering excruciating pains from the stone^ and, during the slog- ing of his daughters, so acute was the agony, as sometimes to ok» tort cries from him. All this formed a mixture of the moat dis- cordant things : tins sudden transition from the silence of ruins to the bustle of a wedding, was extraordlnaiy. Such a tumult at the gate of everlasting repose! such mirth amidst the great mount- ing of Greece ! One idea made me smile : I represented mgr friends thinking of me in France ; I saw them following me In imagination, exaggerating my fatigues, alarmed at my dangers : but what would have been their surprise, had they all at once per- ceived me with my half burned face, attending a village wedding, in one of the Cyclades, praising the performance of the misa^ Pengali, who sung in Greek :

Ah ^ vous dirai-je, maman, kc.

  • I follow the eonunon opiwoa-; but it is poMÎUe that FHsy and Sottnaiaiif

be miatakea. According to Tiballaa, Horace^ and othera, the ailk ganse war made at Cos, and not at Ceoa.


^«fliSe ÙÊk bther was crying out with agony , while the coeks vrete crowing as if they would have split their throats, and all le- membranee of loulis, Aiistcus, and Simonides, was completely eflSiced. In like manner, on my binding at Tunis, after a passage ef fifty-eight days, whl^sb mig^t be called a eontmued shipwreck, I happened to read.^é h6«iseof M. Devoise, just in the middle of the carnival : kistead^of gomg to meditate among the rums of Carthage, I was obliged to run to the ball, to dress in the Turkidi habit, and to join in all aie frolics of a ^paify of American officers, ftiM of the gayety and spirits of youth*

The change i»f scene on my departure from Zea, was not less abrapt ^tfaan it had been on my amvd in that island. At elevea o^clook at night I left the joyous family, and went down to the harbour, where, though the weather was tempestuous, I embark- ed in a caick,' with a crew consisting of three men and two boys. Joseph, who was very bold on land, was not so courageous at sea. He made many useless remonstrances ; he was obHged to accompany me on board, and to follow my fortunes. We stood out of the harbour: our yessel heeling with the weight of the BKil, went gunwale-to ; the sea nm T^y Ju^, and the currents of the Enbœa increased the swell ; the sky was orercast, and flashes of lightning and the phosphoric glimmer of the waves lighted ue Km our way. I mean not to make a parade of my efforts, insig- aifieant as they have heen ; nevertheless, I hope that when I am saen tearing myself away from my countiy and my friends, en- during fever and fatigue, traversing the seas of Greece in little bariEs, eiqposed to the fire of Bedouins, and aU thb out of respeot t» the public, and that I may pVesent it with a work less imperfect ttaa Hie Oeote du ChriaHamme ; I hope, I say, that some credit wis be givem me for my efforts.

In spite of the fable of the Ea§^ and the Crow^ nothing brings yon better luck than to imitate a great man. I had acted Ciesar ; ièuâi Hmés ? Cauarem vehU — and I reached the place of my des- tmation. We arrived at six in the morning of the 31st, at Tino, ^iriiere I found a Hydriot felucca just ready to sail for Smyrna, and which mtended to touch only for a few hours at Ohio. The caiek put me on board the felucca, so.that I did not even go on

18ft T.EÀT«L8 m «KEBOE, PAtAStlNC»

l^no, A)niieil7 Tenoi, is sephmted ofily by & narrow chUBiiel from Andres ; it is a lofty island, refiosing on a rock of mù*ble. R was long in the possession of tile Tenetians ; and in antient times was cetebrated for nothing but its serpents ; the viper de- rived its name from ÛM island.* M . de Choiseul has given a charming description of the women 6( 1%I0 ; Ms views of Pi^*^ San Nicolo appeared to me remarkably correet

l%e sea having become calm, and the sky serene, I breakfiwted npon deck, as it was not yét time to wei^ anchor. I belield, at ififferent distances, all the Cyclades; Scyros^ where Aefaiies spent his infancy ; Delds, celebrated for the birth of Diana and Apollo, for itd palm-tree and its festivals ; Naxbs, which remind- 'éd me of Ariadne, Thdsens, Bacchus, and some exqumte pages in the Studies of Nature, But all these islands, once so enchant- ingy or perhaps so highly embellished by the imaginations of tie poets, now wear no other appearance than that of desolation and «terility. Dreary villages rise in tbe form of a sugar-loaf upon the rocks ; they are commanded by castles still more dreaty» and sometimes surrounded with a double or a triple wall, within which thé Inhabitants live in perpetual fear of fte Turks and of jrtrates. As these fortified villages are nevertiieless falling to raiai they convey to the mind of (he traveller, an Idea of every species of wretchedheas at once. Rousseau somewhere says, ik^i he wished himself exiled to one of the islands of the Archipelago. The eloquent sophist Would fcoon have repented his choice. 80^ parated from his admirers, bailished among clownish and per- fidious Greeks, he would have found neither flowers, nor broiAca, nor shade in Ôie vailles scorched by the sun ; he would have be- held around him no other objects than clumps of olive-trees, and reddish rocks covered with wild sage and balm : and I shrewdly suspect that he would not have wiriied to continue hk walks lor any length of time, to the whistfing of thé wind and the reaiing of the sea along an uninhabited coast

At noon we got under weigh. The north wind carried us at a great mte toward 6cio, but we Were obliged to losep taokhi|g be- tween the island and the coasiof Asia, in order (o ettler tlMS ditonei. We beheld land*and idands aH round tts ; aome dkeur

  • A spedei of viper called Tema, was a natÎTe t£ TeftM f. the ialftfid^ V|4

aH|tiiiill7 nsmcd Ophina sod K^drnaM, ob Mooimt of iti serpcntfi

MTFTy àSU BAKB4»T. ,l%%

lur and lo%, like Samos; others oblong and loir, 13» the capes <rflliegu1fof Epheaua; and all tilled with diffeieal hues aceoid- iflg to their distance. Our felncca, a veij M^t and elegant veaael JIad one laige and only sail^ shaped like the wing of a sea-bird..-^ It was the propertjr of one ùamlyy con^iosed of a father, mother, teotber, and six sons. The lather was the captain, the brother acted as pilot, and the sons were the common sailors : the mother pfepaîed their repasts Nerer did I see sach cheerfalness, such cleaaUness, and such dexterity, as among this crew of brothen. The .Iblneea waa swept, scoured, and decorated like a laTourite apartmrait; it had a ki^ cbaplet at the stem, with an image of the Panagia, and aa olire braneh abore it It is veiy common in the East, to see a family tfaiisembark 1(9 whole fortnne in m ▼easd, change its climate without quitting Its home, and withdraif itself from servitude, by leading the life of aie Scythians on aie bosom of the deep.

In aie night we came to aa anchor in the port ei Ohio, ** the finroured country of Homer," says Fenelon in the adrentnrea of Aristonotts, a master piece of harm^iy and of antique taste. I waa in a sound sleep, from which Joseph did not wake me till eeren in the morning. I lay iq)on the deck, and when I opened my eyes, I fimded that I was transported into some fiJiy région. I found myself in the midst of a port full of shipping, having bdbre me a charming town overlooked by bilk, whose ridges were covered with oBve, palm, mastick, and turpentine treetf. Ihe quays were thronged with Greeks, Fraito, and Turks, and the ear was saluted with the ringing of bells,*

I went on shore, and inqmred if there was not a consul of our nation in this island. I was directed to a surgeon, who acted in (he capacity as French agent : he lived close to the harbour. I paid hna a vint, and was very politely received. His son attended mo lor some hours as my cicerone about the town, which greatly resembles a Venetian town. Bandrand, Ferari, Toumefort, Dap- per, Chandler, de Choiseul, and a hundred other geographers and iHnréHers, hare d^setled Hie irie of Chto, and to their works I ' lefer.tfae reader.

  • Tlie Greek pasnott of the ittasfl of diia done eajOf die privilege of ring-

ô^beHiratNiilcey. Thit priipiltge «M #»ttrft| others they «we to tike <»Ww^ «toiefteiaaMik-^rs^.


I retttmed at ten o'clock to the felucca, and breaVfaated uritti the family. They danced and sung about me on the deck, drink* ing Ohio wine, which was not of the time of Anacreoo. An in* atniment, not the most harmonious» accompanied the steps ané the voices of my hosts; it has retained nothmg of the aacient îyrcy but its name, and has degenerated like its masters. A dec^ cription of this instrument is given by lady Craven.

We left the port on the first of October, at noon. A breeae fining up from the north, and soon increased to a gide. We trst endeavoured to make the western passage between Ohio and (he* Spaimadores, formerly the (£nusBae^ whidi lie at the extrenuMy ^ the channel as you sail for Metelin or Smyrna. But finding' that we could not double Cape Delphina, we tacked to the east and bore away for the port of Tchesme ; then returning toward»; «  Chio; and bearing, away again for Mount Mimas, we at length made Cape Cara Bouroun, at the entrance of the gulf of Smyrna.. »It was now ten at night; the wind failed, and we passed (hem^t becalmed off the coast of Asia.

On the 2d, at day-break, we rowed off from the shore, to avafl ourselves of the sea-breeze, as soon as it should begin to Mow, which it did earlier than usual. We soon passed the islands of Dourlach and were off the castle, which commands the bottoiB of the gulf, or the port of Smyrna. I then perceived the city in the distance through a forest of masts; it seemed to rise from the. sea, being situated on low and level ground, and commanded on the south-east by mountûns of a barren appearance. Joseph was unable to restrain his joy ; to him, Smyrna was a seeonfl eountry. The pleasure manifested by this poor fellow almost . grieved me; in the first place by reminding me of my native land ; and in the second, by demonstrating that the axiom ubi bene^ Un palria is but too true in regard to the generality of mankind.

Joseph, stationed by my side on the deck, told me ibe name of- every thing I saw as we advanced. At length we lowered our aail; and came to an anchor in six fathoms water, without the- first tier of ships. I looked out for my vessel from Trieste, and discovered her by her flag. She was moored near the European quay. I got into a boat that came alongside of us, with Joseph, and was carried on board the Austrian ship. The captain andliia

fecrrrr, avd bakbakY. . 191

ttite wore cm shore; Imt the seamcB kaew me again aikd re* edved me wHh great demonstrations of joy. They informed me that the ship had reached Smyrna on the 18th of August; Aat aie captain had stood off and on two days, to wait for me hetween Zea and Cape Sunium, and that the wind had then ob- liged him to continue his royage. They added Ihat my senrant had, by tile direction of the French consul, bespoken a lod^i^ Ibrmeatanhm.

1 was pleased to find that my old ahip^mates had been as fiw- tmsate as myself hi their voyage. They insisted upon putting me on fliiofe ; I got into the boat and we soon reached the quay. A crowd of porters eagerly offered their hands to assist me in land- li^. Smjrma, where I saw a great number of hats,^ exhibited flle appearance of a maratime city of Italy, with one quarter in- habited by orientals. Joseph conducted me to the house of M. Qiauderloz, who was at that time the French consul at this im- poEtant station. I shall haye frequent occasions to repeat thai^ commendations which 1 have already bestowed on the hospital of on^ consuls. I beg pardon of the reader, for though these i«petitions may be tiresome, still I cannot help being grateful: M. ChauderloE, the brother of M. De la C^os^ received me with politeness; but he did not give me a iod^g at his house, because he waa ill, and because Smyrna, moreover, affords all the accom- nodalionfr of a large European city.

We immediately arranged the plan of the remainder of my tear. I resolved to proceed by land to Constantinople, to pro-' cuee firmans, and then embark with the Greek pilgrims for Syria ; but I determined not to follow the direct road, intending to visit tile plain of Troy and to cross Mount Ida. The nephew of M.ChauderloB, who had just returned from an excursion to Ephe- sna, informed me that the defiles of the Churgara were infested by

robbers, and occupied by aga» still more dangerous than they

à» I adhered ta my plan, tiiey sent for a guide, who was reported to have conducted an Englishman to the Dardanelles by the route iriiich I proposed to pursue. This guide actually agreed to ac- ocMBpany me, and to furnish me with the requisite number of

  • The tailNm and the hat form the principle distinction between the Frank»

ttd the TurlUy vhoae Bomber is reckoned» in. tlie language of the Levaiit, Vf k^ awl tuiksns.


horaetform^eiycoBiidembleMiii. M. Ohandeilos i»Mtti8e4li» procure me an interpreter and an experieneed jwûàsswy. I then yaw that I ahonld be obfiged to leave part of my loggage at tiie consurs» and be content to talce with me no more tban what was abaoliitely neceseaiy. Hie day fixed for my departnre was Ike Ml of September, ftke next but one to that of my arriTal at Smyrna. -

Having promissed M. Chauderioz, to retom to dûmerwith him, I went to my inn, where I found Jnlian comfortaMy fixed in à very neat apartment fumiehed in the European Btyk. Thi» house, wliich b kept l>y a widow, commandsia veiy fine view of the port; I hare fbrgetten its name. After tiie deaeriptioBB'of' Toumefort, Chandler, Peyssonel, and so many other writers,!' hare nothing to say concerning Smyrna, but I cannot deny my-' self the pleasure of quoting tiie following passage from M. dtft Choiseurs Travels :

  • ^ The Greeks who left the quarter of Ephesus called SmynoL^

had built only a few cottages at the bottonl of the gutf, whM^ has since received the name of their former abode. Alexander assembled them, and gave them directions to buHd a city near the river Meles. Antigotius commenced âiis work by his com* mand, and it was finished by Lysimachus.

  • ^ So excellent a situation as that of Smyrna was worthy of the

founder of Alexandria, and could not fail to ensure the prospority of that establishment. Behig admitted by the dues of lonfia to shares the advantages of their confederation, this place soon be- came the centre of the commerce of Asia Minor. Its wealth attracted all the arts ; it was adorned with magniffcent edifices and thronged with strangers, who resorted hither to enrich this dty' with the productions of their countries, to admire its wonders, to sing with its poets, and to derive instruction from its philosophe!^. A smoother dialect imparted new charms to that eloquence which appeared to be an attribute of the Greeks. The beauty of Hie climate seemed to influence that of the inhabitants who Aimished artists with models, by means of which they were enabled to make the rest of the world aequidnted vriih nature and art com- bined in their perfection.

" It was one of the cities which claimed the honour of having given birth to Homer. On the banks of the Meles was shown the spot where Critheis, his mother, brought him into the world, and

tkt twtrm to* wlàcik he retired to compose tuB immortal verses. A momiment erected to his memory and inscribed witli his name, stood in the middle of the city; and was adorned with spacioas porticos, under which the citisens assemhled* Finally, their coins bore his image, as if they had acknowledged for their soTe- reign the genius who eocferred honour on them.

" Smyrna preserved the precious relics of this prosperity^ till the struggle in which the empire was involved with barbarians. It was taken by ilie Turks, retaken by the Greeks, always plun- dered and always destroyed. At the commencement of the thir- teenth centvry* nothing of it existed but its ruins, and the dtadel, repaired by the emperor John Comnenus, who died in 1224. This fortress coukl not withstand the efforts of the Turkish princes, wlio frequently made it their residence in spite o£ the knights of Rhodes, who, «esing a favourable opportunity, erected there a fort, in which they for some time maintained themselves ; but Tamerlane in a fornight reduced this place, whjch Bajaset had blockaded for seven years.

    • Smyrna did not be^n to rise from its ruins till the Turks

were completely masters of the empire ; its situation then restored to it the advantages which it had lost by war, and it once niore became (he mart of the adjacent countries. The inhabitants taking courage, forsook the summit of the mountain, and erected new houses on Ihe beach. These modern buildings have been Qonstnicted with the marble of all the ancient monuments, of which scarcely any fragments are left; so that the site of the sjta- dhun and the theatre only can now be recognized. In vain Aould we puezle ourselves to determine to what edifices be- longed the vestiges of foundations and the fragments of walls to be perceived between the fortress açd the sit^ pf fke present town."

As ancient Smyrna was destroyed by the bari^arians, so the Biodem city has suffered severely from earthquakes, conflagra* tions and pestilence. The latter scourge furnished occasion for a self-devotion which deserves to be recorded among the sacri^ fices of so many other missionaries. The authenticity of the fact I^K not be suspected, as an £nglbh clergyman is the relater. 9rpt^r IfivOB of Pavia, of the ordjsr of Pn^nçiscans, the supfrior

J) D


^d founder of the hospital of Bt. Anthony al Sm;pnia, being $h tacked by the plague, made a vow, if €rod preserved his life, tQ flevote it to the attendance on persons afflicted with that disease. Snatched almost miraculously frop the jaws pf death, Brothei: liOuis fulfilled his vow. Numberless we^e ^e Jnfected whom h«  attended ; and it is calculated tliat near two-thirds of these ^^fo^ tunate creatures were restored to health.^

I had therefore, not^g to see at Smyrna, unless it were the Meles, which nobody knows any thjuig of, and whose very panie is a diluted point between three or four ditches.f A, circumstance» however, which struck and surprised me, was the extreme sQftr liess of the air. The atmosphere, less pure than that of Attica» had that teint which is temied by painters,, a warm tone ; that is, it was filled with a fine vapoqr tinged by the light with a rediUati l^ue. In the absence of the aeia-breieze I felt a languor whic)i ap«  proacbed to fajnting, and clearly recognized the soft Ionia. My i^tay at Smyrna cpmpelled lue to a n^w metamorphosis : I was obliged to assume the appearance of civilization, to dress, to le-. ^ive and to returp visits. The merchant^ who did me tl)e hon- our to call upon me, were rich; an^ when I went to see. them in my turn, ) found at their hofiseç, elegaiit fepdaleq, wbo seemed that very morning, to have received t)ie|r fashions from the mer tfopolis of France. ]Placed between the rpins of Athens and the relics of Jerusalem, this second Paris where I ha|l arrived i|i 4 dreek vessel, and which I was about to le^ve with a Turkish car-> avan, formed a striking contrast With the scenes that I had just beheld : it ^Hras a kind of civilised Oasis, a Pahnyra seated unid deserts and barbari&m« I must however acknowledge, Uiat nat- nrally somewhat wiHi I had pot cofi^Q tq the ea«t in search

♦ See I>alIaFay. The chief reniedjr employed hy FriarLouîs ifas to wrap the head o£the patient m a napkin steeped in oil.

t Chandler hat neverftheleM given a highly poetleal deapriptioii of it, though he aoMpadverto uppn the poet* and paintera who have thought fit Co aangb wa» ter to the Ilissus. According to him, the Mele« rans behind the castle. M. de Choiseul's plan of Smyrna, also lays down the course of this riyer, the father of Homer. How happens it that with all Ae imagination which I have reoeired oredit for, I way unable to discover in Greece, what has been seen by so taany gl«ve ^nd eminent travellers? I have an unlucky love of truth, aud a. fear «f stiying the tUuç which it not, tha| are paramount with sue to every other oot|«  rlderatioQ« 

tGYl^t AND BAÉftAàt* IM

bt sociëtf : I longed to see camels^ and to hear the ciy of th6 comae.

On the moming of thé 5% all the néce«»ury âmngementg being made, the guide went befofe wUh the Uortes, to Wait for me at Menemen Eskëlessi, à little port of Anatolia. My last Tisit at Smyrna was to Joseph, but quàntwn mUitaHs ah iUo ! Was it possible that this could be my dighified drogman t I found hioK in a wretched shop, hammering away at some utensil or other ol^ fin. He had on the same waistcoat of blue velvet which he wore among the ruins of Sparta and Athens. But what availed these marks of his glory ? What availed his having seen cities and men — mares hondman et vrbesf He was not even the owner of hb ihop« I perceived in a conier à surley looking master who épôfte rou^ly to my old companion. And was it for this that Jose|ih so heartily rejoiced on his arrival ? During my tour I met iHth only two subjects of regret, namely : that Î was not rich enough to set tip Joseph in business at Smyrna; and to ransom a captive at Tunis. I took my last farewell of my poor comrade r he wept, and I was not much less affected; I Wrote my name for him on a small piece of paper, in which I had wrapped thé marks of my sincere gratitude : so that the master of the shop[ remained ignorailt of what passed between us.

In the evemng, having thanked the consul for all his civilities, I embarked with Jtilian, the drogman, the janissaries, and the nephew of M. Chauderloe, who had the kindness U^ accompanjr' me io the (MHt, where we soon arrived. The guide was «n the shore. Having taken leave of my young host who re- tarned io ^yma, we mounted (Hur horses and pursned Our joomey*

It was midni^t When We arrived at the kan o^ Menemen. perceived at a distance a great numl>er of scattered lights : it was a-6aiETan making a halt. On à nearer approach I dfetingnished eamelBj some Ijring, othent standidg,' some With their loads, others relieved from the burden. Horses and asses without bridles Were eating barley out of leather buckets ; some of the men w^re still •h horseback, ahd thé women, veiled, had not alighted from their dromedaries. Turkish merchants were seated cross-legged oil carpets in groups round the fire$, at which the slaves were bttsily employed in dressing pilau. Other travellers Were smok-


iiig ^eir pipes, at the door of the kaii, chewUig opionir ana BbCcsih ing to stories. Here were, people buming coffee in iroiji fiotaç there hucksters went about from fire to fire ofi^rmg eak^s, froits^ and poultry fot sale. Singers were amusing the crowd ; iman» were performing their ablutions, prostrating themselyes, rbing again and invoking the prApbet ; and the camel-drivers lay shot-. ing on the ground. The place was strewed with packages^ bags of cotton, and comffs of rice. All these objects now distinct and reflecting a vivid light, now confused and enveloped in a half shade, exhibited a genuine scene of the Arabian Nightb it wanted nothing but the caliph Haroun al Raschid, the vizir Gki£* far and Mesrour, the chief of the black eunuchs.

I then recollected for the first time, that I was treading tlur: plains of Asia ; a quarter of the globe which had not yet b«held? the traces of my steps, nor, alasî tlioae borrows, whkh I fiftim. with the rest of mankind. I felt impressed with profound reepeet for this aiM^ient soil, which was the cradle of the hiMnan race, the- abode of the patriarchs ; where Tyre and Babylon reared their haughty heads ; where the Eternal called Cyras and Alexander ; and where Chrkt accomplished tiie mystery of our salvation. A-. npw world lay open before me : I was going to visit nations to^ which I was a stranger ; to observe different manners and dllfer^ ent customs -, to behold oUier animals, other plants, a new sky, and a new nature. I should soon pass the Hermus and' the €kani- eus : Sardis was not far distant : I was advancing towards ¥er^^ mus and Troy. History unfolded to me another page of the re- volutions of mankiud.

To my great regret I left the caravan behind. In about two^ hours we reached the banks of the Hermus, which we crossed hr a îerry. It is still the terbidus Hermus; but I know not whether its sands yet continue to yield gold. I beheld it with pleasure ; for it was the first river, properly speaking, that I had met with since I left Italy. At day-break we came to a plain bordered Wf tfa hills of no great elevation. The country exhibited an aspect totally- different from that of Greece ; the fields were agreeably divei^i- fied witli verdant cotton trees, the yellow straw of the corn, ai»d the variegated bark of the mastick, while camels and buffaJvi i were grazing here and there. We leftMagnesia, and Mouni fei»* behind us ; so that we were not far from the fields v


fthare'Ageailattfl bumbled the pride of the great king, and where Se2pio gained that victoiy oyer AiitiochuB which opened a way Saé the Romans into Asia.

Ât a distance on our left we perceived the ruins of Cyme aiid had Neon Tichos on oar right I was tempted to alight from my horse and to wulk, out of respect for Homer, who passed over the same ground.

^Sometime afterwards the unfavourable state of his aflfairs ifidttcedhim to go to Cyme. Having set out, he crossed the plain of the Hermusy and arrived at Neon Tichos, a colony of Cyme : it wa6 founded eight years after the latter. It is said that being in this town, in the bouse of a smith, he there recited these verses the first that he ever composed : — ' O ye citizens of the amiable dftu^hter of Cyme, dwelling at the foot of Mount Sardene, whose sonmiit is covered with woods that yield a refreshiog shade, and who drinlrthe waters of the dtivine Hermus, sprung from Jupiter, have compassion on the poverty of a stranger, who has no home in which to lay his head!'

« The Hermus runs near Neon Tichos, and Mount Sardene overlooks both. The smith whose name was Tychius, was so pleased with these verses, that he determined to receive him into his house. Full of conmiiseration for a blind man, reduced to the necessity of begging his bread, he promised to divide with him what he had. Melesigenes having entered his shop^ took a seat, and some ot the citizens of Neon Tichos being present, he showed them a specimen of his poetry : it was the expedition of Amphia* nms against Thebes, and the hymns in honour of the gods. Each, expressed* his sentiments upon them, and Melesigenes having thereupon pronounced his opinion, his auditors were filled vnih admiration.

^ A» long as he remfdned at Neon. Tichos his poetry supplied him with the means of subsistence. The place where he was ac* customed to sit when he recited his verses was still shown in my time« This spot which was yet held in high veneration, was shaded by a poplar that had begun to grow at the time of his

  • rival.«"

Smce Homer had a smith for his host at Neon Tichos, I need Aot be ashamed of having had a tinman of Smyrna for my inter* • life of Homer.


prêter. Wodld to Heaventhe resemblance werie as complété fiS erery other respect, were I even to purchase the genius of HOmef at the eicpense of all the misfortunes with which the bard was overwhelmed !

After a march of several hours we ascehded one of the ridges of Mount Sardene, and arrived on the bank of the Pjthicus. We halted to allow a caravan that was crossing the river to pass. The camels, each fiastened to the tail of the other, did not com- mit themselves to the water wittiout resistance; (hey stretched' out their necks, and were drawn along bj the ass that headed the caravan. The merchants and the horses had stopped opposite ia' us, on the other side of the river, and a Turkish woman was sitf ing by herself covered with her veU. We crossed the Pythicus in our turn, below a wretched stone bridge, and at eleven o'clock we reached a kan where wer baited our horses.

At five in the evening we pursued our journey. The countiy lay high, and was tolerably well cultivated. We saw the sea on our left. I observed for the first time, some tents belonging to Turcomans ; they were composed of black sheep-skins, and re- minded me of the Hebrews and the pastoral Arabs. We descended into the plain of Myrina, which extends to the gulf of Elea. An old castle, called Ousel Hissar, crowns one of the summits of the mountain which we had just left behind. At ten at night we en- camped in the midst of the plain. A blanket which I had bought at Smyrna was spread upon the ground. I lay down upon it and went to sleep. On waking, some hours afterwards, I beheld the stars glistening over my head, and heard the shouts of the cameV- driver conducting a distant caravan.

On the 5th we mounted our horses before it was light. Our road led over a cultivated plain : we crossed the Caicus, at the dbtance of a league from Pergamus, and at nine in the moniing * entered the town, seated at the foot of a mountain. While the guide led the horses to the kan, I went to examine the reKcs of the citadel. I found ruins ,of the walls of three edifices; the re- mains of a theatre, and a temple, perhaps that of Minerva; andf remarked some fine fragments of sculpture, among others a frieze adorned with garlands, supported by the heads of oxen and by eagles. Pergamus lay before me to the south ; it resembled â camp composed of red barracks. To the west stretches a spa-


iions phin boiinded by the sea ; to the eastward extends another pIam,J[K)rdered in the di^nce by mountains; to the south, and at the. foot of the town, first appeared cemeteries planted with cypresses, then a tract cultivated with barley and cotton ; next two large tumuli; after which came a border of trees; and lastly a long.high hill which intercepted the view. I perceived also to the northwest, some of the windings of the Selinus and Cetius ; and to the east, the amphitheatre in the hollow of a valley. As I descended from the citadel, the town exhibited the remains of an aqueduct and the nms of the Lyceum. The scholars of the country assert that the latter edifice contained the celebrated Ijbrary.

But if ever tlc^riptlon was superfluous, it is this which I am attempting. It is but a few months since M. de Choiseul publish- ed the continuation of his Travels. This second volume, which displays the maturity of talents improved by exercise, time and adversity, gives the most accurate and curious particulars relative tp the edifices of Pergamus, and the history of its princes. I shall, therefore, indulge in only one reflection. The name of Attains, 4iear to arts and letters seems to have been fatal to kings. Attains, the third of that name, died almost an ideot, and bequeathed his |U>sse8sions to the Romans, on which these republicans, who pro- bably considered the people as part of those possessions, seized his kingdom. We find another Attalus, the puppet of Alaric, whose name is become proverbial to express the shadow of roy- alty. He who knows not how to wear the purple, ought not to accept it : better were it, in thjs case, that he clothed lilmself in goat-skin.

We left Pergamus at six in the evening; and proceeding northward, we halted for the night at el<^en, in tlie middle of a plain. On the 6th, at four in the morning, we resumed our ropte, and continued our progress over the plain, which, with the exception of the trees, is very much hke Lombardy. I was over- taken by such a fit of drowsiness that I could not possibly with- stand it, and fell from my horse, It was a wonder I had not broken my neck ; but I came off with a sliglit contusion. About seven o'clock we found ourselves upon an uneven tract of conn- txy, fornied of small hills. We then descended into a charming (|ale, pifinted with mulberry and olive-trees, poplars, and pinr^


in the form of a parasol (pinus pinecuj Am in general appeared to me far superior in beauty to Greece. We arrived betimes at Somma, a wretched Turkish town, where we spent the day.

I was an utter stranger to the route which we were now pur- suing. I had got out of the track of travellers, who, in going to Bnr&a, or returning from that city, keep much farthe^r to the east along the road to Constantinople. On the other hand, it seemed to me, that in order to come upon the back of Mount Ida, we ought to have proceeded from Pergamus to Adramytti, and then keeping along the coast, or crossing the. Garganis, we should have descended into the plain of Troy. Instead of following this track, we had marched along a line precisely between the road (o the Dardanelles and that to Constantinople. I began to sus- pect some shuffling on the part of the guide, especially as I had observed him frequently engaged in conversation with the janis- sary. I desired Julian to call the drogman, and asked him how it happened that we had taken the road to Somma. The drog- man appeared embarrassed : he replied that we were going to Kircagach ; that it was impossible to cross the mountains where we should infallibly be all murdered ; that our company was not sufficiently numerous to venture upon such a journey, and that it was much more advisable to make the best of our way into tiic road for Constantinople.

This answer threw me into a passion. I clearly perceived that tlie drogman and janissary, either from fear or other motives, had concerted a plot to lead me out of my way. I sent for the guide, and reproached him with his dishonesty. I told him, that since he considered the road to Troy as impracticable, be ougjht to have told me so at Smyrna; that tliough a Turk, 1 should not hesitate to call him a scoundrel; that I woukl not relinquish my plans in compliance with his fears or his caprices ; that my bar- gain was to be conducted to the Dardanelles, and to the Darda- nelles I was determined to go.

At these words, which the drogman faithfully interpreted, the guide became furious. " Allah ! allah !'» exclaimed he, shak- ing |iis beard with rage ; he declared, that in spite of all I coukl Bay or do, he would conduct me to Kirca^ch ; and that we should see which of \he two would have most weight with the

ïÊt^y ft OMsfian or a Turk. But for Joiiaii I think I sbonld ha^é kaoekecl tke fellow down.

Kircagach being a large and opulent town, three leagues from Somma, I was in hopes of finding there some French agent who would bring this pestilent Turk to reason^ I was too much agitated to sleep* On the 6th, our whole company was on horse* back at four o'clock, according to the orders which I had given. In less than tiiree hours we arrived at Kircagach, and alighted at the door df a rery handsome kan. The drogman immedi- ately inquired if tiiere was any French consul in the town, and was directed to the house of an Italian surgeon. To this repu- ted vice-consul I posted, and explained my errand. He imme- ^ateiy went to give an account of the matter to the governor^ who directed that I should appear before him with the guide. I repaired to the tribunal of his excellency, preceded by the drog- man and the janissary* The aga Was half reclined in the comer of a sofa, at the farther end of a large handsome ipom, the floor of which was covered with a carpet. He was a young, man, of the family of a vizier. f4re-arms hung up over his head, and one of his officers was seated beside him. He continued smo- king out of a large Persian pipe, With a look of contempt, and from time to time burst into a loud laugh as he looked at nsi This reception nettled me; The guide, the drogman, and the janisBary^ pulled off their sandals at the door, according to cus- tom ; they advanced and kissed the skirt of the aga's robe, and then went back and seated themselves at the doon

^e matter did not pass off so quietly in regard to me. I was completely armed, booted^ spurred, and had my whip in my hand. The slaves insisted on my leaving my boots» my whip, and my arms, at the door. I ordered the drogman to tell them that a Frenchman follows the customs of his country wherever he goes | and that if they presumed to lay a finger upon me, I Would make them repent their insolence. I advanced at a quick paec into the room, regardless of their cries« A s^ahi seised me by the left arm, and pulled me forcibly back. I gave him such a cut over the face with my whip, that he was obliged ia loose his hold. Be clapped his hand to the pistols which he car^ ried at his girdle ; but taking no notice of his menace, I went aad seated mf self by tiie side of the aga, wbose astonishment


202 XBAyVlA IN GUCfiCE, >AUB8TIlir,

«nd terror were truly ludicrout. I addresaed bim in RoMdi : C eompluned of the insolence of his people ; I declared it wa»oidf out -of respeet to him thatl had not killed his janlssaiy ; Hiat he ought to know that the French were the oldest and thfr mdA iaithful allies of the Grand Signor ; that the fiune of their arms was sufficiently spread in the East, to teach people to respe^. their hats, in like manner as they honoured without fearing die turbans; that I had drunk coffee wifli pachas^ who had treated me like their son, and that I had not come to. allow a slave to instruct me how to conduct myself, or to have the pre- Bumption to touch even the skirt of my coat

The astonished aga listened as if he had understood me : the drogman interpreted what I had said, word for word. He repi- ed, that he had never seen a Frenchman ; that he had taken ma for a Frank, and would most assuredly do me justice : He thea ordered coffee to lie brought for me.

Nothing could be more diverting than to observe the stopi- fied look, and the lengthened visage of the slaves, who beheld me in my dusty boots seated on the dïvan by the code of their master. Tranquility being restored, I explidned my enaad. Having heard both sides, the aga gave such a decision as L by no means expectedt He commanded the guide to return ae part of my- money ; but declared, that as the horses were tired, five men only could not without hazard attempt a passage over the mountains; and that consequently I ought quietly to pursue the road to Constantinople.

In this decree there was a remarkable share o£ Toitjish good-sense, ei^ecially when the youth and inexperience of tiie judge are takeninto consideration. I told his excellency, that his decision, though in either respects very just, was faully i6r two reasons : in the first place, because five men weU amed might venture any where ; and in the second^ because the guide ought to have made objections at Smyrna, and not to have enter- ed into a contract which he had not the courage to fnlfiL The- aga agreed that my last remark was perfectly correct; but that» as tiie horses weine fatigued, and incapable of performing so tang a journey, fate itself compelled me to take another road.

It would have been useless to stni^le against fate : all were secretly against me ; the judgr,1the drogman, and my ja

ISfijr^^t AND BARSAVr. StiS

.Tli« WfUb would haye vaiaed lUfficulties on the subject of the ■MVNji hut .he was peremptorily told that a hundred strokes of thehfysHnado awaited him at the door, unless he returned part of the. sum which he had received. He drew^ it with great reluc- iHiGe from a little leather bag, and came up and handed it to me. 1 took it, but gave *it him back again, reproaching him at the aiiQi^ time with Ms dishonesty and duplicity. Selfishness is the gPQflUt Tice of the Mussulmans, and liberality the .rirtue which Mify hold in the highest esteem. My conduct appeared sub- iioie I nothiog was to be heard but allah ! aUak ! At my departure I was attended to the door by all the slaves, and even by the •flpahi whom I had struck ; they expected something for a ireai^ as |fa^ call it I gave two pieces of gold to the Mussulman I had 4i^en; I dare say, for that price he would not have made the .objections which Sancho did to deliver tiie priacess Dulcinea. As to the rest of the crewj they were told from me, ihat a French- man never makes presents, .nor receives them. • Such was the business that cost me the sacrifice of -Hioq, and the glory of Homer. I represented to myself, by way of conso- lation, that I must necessarily pass Troy in the ship with flie pil- .gnmsy and that I mi^t perhaps prevail upon the captain to set me on shore. I therefore made up my mind to pursue my jour- ney without £irther loss of time.

I went to pay a visit to the surgeon; he had Aot once made his appearance in this whole afifsdr with the guide, either because he had no right to support me, or for fear of the governor. We walked together about the town, which is large and populous. Here I saw what I had not before met with'-^young Greek women without veils, sprightly, handsome, courteous, and to all appear- ance, daughters of lona. It is a singular circumstance that Kir- cagach, so celebrated throughout all the Levant for the superi- ority of its cotton, is not to be found in any traveller,* neither is it marked in any map. It is one of those towns which the Turks call sacred: it belongs to the great mosque at Constanti-

  • M. de CiMMeiil is the only one tbat meiitkMift iU name. Toaroefort speàkt

ef a moaatam called KireaaaQ. Paul Loeas, Poeoeke» Chandler, Spoo, Smith, and Dallawaj, aaj nothinf concerning Kireagaeh. lyAnville panes it over in «lence : and no notice it taken of it in PeyMonel'B Memoira. If aome of the nonibeilefa TraYdain the East make mention of tlusj^hee, it is iu a yexy ob- «are>inamiei^ and has totaUy ilipped mj memory.


Bople, and the pachas ace not permitted to .ealer iU walk*' I have noticed the aiogular and exeeUent qaalities af ita hoii03r».ift ipeaking of that of Mount Hymettua*

At three in the afternoon we left Kirea^ch, and puiaved ow waj towards Constantinople. The road led to the north, throvgk a countrj planted with cotton-trees. We dinbed a Idll, theoi descended into another plain, and at half past fire» we halted isf the night at the kao of Kçlemhe, This is probably the aasM place that Spon calls Basculembei, Toumefort Baskelambai, aad Thevenot Dgelembé. The Turkish geography is rery obsev» in the works of travellers, each haviag followed 4he mode ef spelling suggested by his ear. It moreover requires mfinite pains to establish the concordance of ancient and modern namea in Anatolia, In this point D'Anville himself is not complete ; and oafortunately the chart of the Propontis, executed for M. de Choi* seul lays down nothing but the coasts of the sea of Manaonu

I took a walk in the enyirons of the town; the sky was cloudy, ^d the air cold as in France : it was the first time that I had re-, marked this kind of atmosphere in the East Such is the influ- ence of the attachment to country, that I felt a secret pleasure la contemplating this gray and gloomy sky» instead of that pure nnd serene atmosphere which I had so long been enjoying.

On the 8th, at break of day, we turned out of our quart|i|f| and began to climb a hiUy tract, which would be covered with an Admirable forest of oaks, pmes, phyllereas, andrachnes, and tuf* pentine-trees, if the Turks would suffer any thing to grow: they set fire, on the contrary, to the young plants, and mutilate the large trees : there is nothing hut what these people destroy ; they are a real pest,* The villages m the mountains are poori but the animab of various spades are numerous* Yon may aee in the same yard, homed cattle, bufifoloes, sheep, goats, hones asses, mules, intermixed with fowls, turkeys, dacka, and geese. Some wild birds, as storks and larks tive on familiar terms with these domestic animals. Among these peaceable ereatupes uigp/k ^e camel, the most peaceful of them all.

We dined at Geujouck ; then coatmuipg our route, we dranlip

  • Toomefort aiferts th«t the Tmk» Inrn tlieie woodi to hwresee the qoantitf

sT patttrnge : bat tl^swoaUbe Uie htàii^éimhtar^, as s irsht of wostf prevslf»

thrwtfc<^l»g T^rt*yt iM <Nr»i»s|rsiM»afiptrsiNiriwss gf \

m^fnvf Am» «amakt. 205

I Ae lop of the mouBtetn of Zebee, sad slept at Chia^ Otftew TounefeH ind Spon mentioned a place upon this road», called Coupougonlgi.

On the 9th| we crossed higher mountains than those over Mdch we passed the preceding day. Wheeler asserts that they imn file diain of Mount "Rmaus. We dined at Manda Fora, todlied by Spon and Toumefort, Mandagoia, where some antique columns are to be seen. At this place trarellers commonly sleep ; but we pursued our journey, and halted at nine in the evening at the Snn of Emir Capi, a detached house in the middle of a wood. We had trarelled thirteen hours. The master of the housRe had jmit expired, and was extended upon a mat, which was quickly pulled from under him, for my accommodation. It was still warm, aiid already had all the (Hends of the deceased forsaken the house. A kind of waiter, who alone was left, assured me that his master had not died of any contagious disease ; I therefore spread my bhmket on the mat, laid myself down and went to sleep. Others will sleep in âieir turn on my last bed, and wilt think no more of me than I did of the Turk who had given me his place.

On the 10th, after a ride of fax hours, we anrlved at the pretty village of Souseverié. This is perhaps the Sousurluck of The* venot, and certainly the SousighlrK of Spon, and the Sousonghirl! of Toumefort. It is rituated at the termination and on the back of tiie mountains which we had just passed. About five hundred paces from fiie vilhige runs a river, and beyond this river extends a beantiful and spacious plain. This river of Souson^irli is no other than the Oranicus ; and this unknown plain is the plam of Mysia.

What is tiien fiie spell of glory ? A traveller comes to a river, ia which he observes nothing remarkable ; he is* told that the name of this river is Bousonghirfi: he crosses it and pursues his way. But should some one perchance call out to him : 'Tis the Oranicus f — ^he starts, opens his astonished eyes, fixes them on the river, as if the water possessed a ma^c power, or as if a su- pematnral voice were to be heard on its banks. We halted fiiree hours at Sousonghirli, and I spent the whole of that time in eon- temi^ating the Giamcua. It is very narrow; the west bank ia >teep and figged; and Hnwiter^wlMiiabris^ and limpid, llowa

«ver a sandy bottom. ThÎB sireao, in tlie place where ImmM as not more than forty Ihet broad, and three and a half deep^ bi# in spring it rises and rvns with impetuoûfy. >Let us heat what Plutarch says:

<< In the mean lime, Daiius's generals had asaembled an ini^ onense army, and had taken post upon the banks of Gomous; «a Ihat Alexander was «inder the necessity of fighlittg there, to open 4he gates of Asia. Many of his officers were apprdiensive of the 4epth of the river, and the rough and uneyen banks on the «Iher side ; and some thought tlmt a proper regard should be paid to a «raditiinuiTy «sage with respect to the time, for the kin^ of Ma- cedon never marched out io war in the month Dssius. Alexaor ^er cured them of this piece of superstition, by ordering that month to be called ' the second Artemisius.' And when Fexmrn^ mo objected to hb att^npting a passage so late in the day, be replied : '^ The Hellespont would blush, if after havii^ passed Ht, ht should be afraid of the Granicusf' At the same tùde, be throw himself into the stream with thirteen troops of hone ; and as he advanced in the face of the enemy's arrows, in spite of ttie ateep banks which were lined with cavalry well armed, and the npidity^ of the river, which often bore him down or covered him with its waves, his motions seemed rather the effects of madneis dian sound sense. He held on, however, till by astonishing ^- forts he gained the opposite banks, which the mud rendered em- tremely slippeiy and dangerous. When he was Uiere, he was forced to stand an engagement .with the enemy, hand to hand, and with much confusion on his pait, because &ey attacked Ms men as fast as they came over, before he had time to form them. For the Persian troops chaiging wltli |ouâ shouts, and with hone against horse, made good use of their spears, and when those were broken, of their swords.

  • ^ Numbers pressed hard upon Aieaander, beoause he was

«asy to be distinguished both by his buckler and his crest, on each side of whidi was a large and beautiful pimne of white fea^ thers. His cuirass was pierced by a javelin at the joint ; but he escaped uiAurt. After this Rhœsaces and Spitftridatea, two offi- cers of high distmctioa, attacked him jobUdy. The latter he avoided with great address, and received the former with euoh a «!roke of his spear, upon his hreaitidalei that It bmka in piefiea.

He Are drew hh swoid to despateh Urn; Imt his advenaiy stiii liliQiiteiittd ât^ combat In the mean time Spithiidatea came uj^ 0Û one flide of him, and rainng himself on hit hone ga^e him » blow with his battle-axe, which cut off his crest with one side ot Hie iiinme. N«7, aie force of it was snth, that the helmet coold àarÂy^Terist it: it eyen penetrated to his hair. 8pithridates was about to repeat his stroke» when the celebrated Chtas prevented him, by ramûng him through the body with his spear. At tha same lime Alexander with his sword brought Rœsaces to the ground.

' ** While the cayahy was thus furiously and eriticaily eojpigedy the Macedonian phalanx passed the river, and then the infantry Jikewise engaged. The enemy made no consideraMe or long re- BiBtaDce, but soon turned thehr backs and fled ; all but the €ke- lAm mercenaries, who forming upon an eminence, deared Alexr andfir to gjive his word of honour that they should be spared» But fiiat prince influenced rather by his passion than by his rei^ •on, instead of giving them quarter advanced to attack theuL, and was so warmly received that he had his horse killed under %im« It was not however, the llanu>uÀ Bucephalus. In this dis- pute, naore af his men were killed and wounded, than in ait aie rest of the battle ; for here they had to do with expe* lienced soldiers, who fought with a courage heightened by despair.

    • The barbarians, we are told, lost m this battle twenty thousand

tsot nd two thousand five hundred horse ; whereas Alexanderhad <M4y thirty*four men killed, nine of which were in&ntiy. Ta do honour to thehr memory, he erected to each of them a statae in brass, the workmansihip of Lysippus. And that the Greeks mi|^t have th«r share in tiie ^ory of the day, he distributed among them presents 6ut of the spoil; to the Athenians in par- tieulnr, he seaA three hundred bucklers. Upon the rest of the •wpo^B he put tUs pompous mscription : < Won by Aie^der the son of Philip, and the Greeks (exceptii^ the lacedœmonians) from the barbarians in Aria."

It is one jringle incUvidual, then, who thus immortalises a little riivw in a desert ! Herf £rils an immense empire, and here rises •ant empire still more immense; the fau&in Ocean hears the firil of the throne that is oveiiomed near the shores of the Pror

iOé TEAtÊLS 1» G1U!eCB| IPALftèTilIt:^

pontÎB ; Hht Ganges befaokis the approach of aie leopard witff four wings,* which triumphed on the banks of the Granicus : Babylon, which the king built in the splendour of his power, opens her gates to admit a new master; Tyre, the queen of ships, is humbled, and her rival springs up out of the sands of Al- exandria.

Alexander was guilty of crimes : he was unable to withstand the intoxication of his success; but by what magnanimity did he' notatone for the errors of his life ! his crimes were always expiated by his tears : With Alexander every thing came from the heart. He began and terminated his career with two sublime expressions^ On his departure to make war upon Darius, he divided his do* minions among hb officers. " What then do yon reserve for yourself? cried they in astonishment. "Hope," Was his reply. •* To whom do you leave the empire ?" said these same officers to him when expiring. " To tlîe most worthy," sidd he. Place between these two expressions, the conquest of the world, achiev* ed with tliirty-five thousand men, in less than ten years, and yoU must admit that if ever man resembled a god among men, it wa» Alexander. His premature death adds something divine to hi» memory, for we behold him ever fair, young, and triumphant without any of those corporeal infirmities, without any of lhos«  reverses of fortune that age and time are sure to bring. This dK* vinity vanbhes, and mortals are unable to support the weight of his work. " His kingdom," says the prophet, " shall be divided toward the four winds of heaven."*

At two in the afternoon we left Sousonghirli, crossed ihe Grani- cus, and advanced into the plain of Mlkalicie, which belpnged to the Mysia of the ancients. We halted for the night at Tehu- tîtsi, which may perhaps be the Squeticui of Toumefort. The kan being full of travellers, we took up our quarters under some spreading willows, planted in quincunx order.

On the 11th we set out at day-break, and leaving the road to Bursa on the right, we continued our route through a plain cov- ered with rushes, in which I observed the remains of an aqueduct. At nine in the morning we reached Mikalitza, a large, dull, dila* I»idated Turkish town, seated on a river, to which it give» its name*


I know Dot whether this river be not the same that issues front lake Abouilla: so much, however, is certain, that a lake is to be i»een at a distance in the plain. In this case, the river Mikalitza inust be the Rhyndacus, formerly the Lycus, which took its rise ih the Stagnum Artynia : a dongecture which is strengthened by its hating at its mouth the little island (Besbicos) mentioned by the ancients. The town of Mikalitza is not far from the Lopadion of Nicetas, which is the Loilpadi of Spon^ the Lopadi, Loubat, and Oulonbat of Toumefort. Nothing is more tiresome for a tra- veller than Uiis confusion in the nomenclature of places; and if in regard to this point I have committed ahnost inevitable errors, i fcquest the reader to recollect, that men of superior abilities have themselves fallen into mistakes;

We left Mikalitza at noon, and advanced along the east bank of the river towards the high lands, forming the coast of the sea of Mannora, the andelit Propontis: On my right, I perceived su- perb plains, an extensive lake, and, in the distance, the chain of Olympils : dl this country is magnificent. After riding an hour. Ire crossed the river by a wooden bridge, and came to the paaa of the heigths which lay before Us. Here we found the port of Mikalitza. I dismissed my scoundrel of a guide, and took my passage ih a Turkish vessel ready to sail for Constantinople.

At four in the afternoon, we began to fall down the river: the port of Mikalitza being sixteen leagues from the sea. The rivec had here increased to nearly the size of the Seine ; it flowed be- tween verdant hills whose foot is washed by the current The antique form of our galley, the oriental costume of the passen* gers, the five half-naked sailors towing us along with a rope^ the beauty of the river, and the solitude of the banks, rendered this trip picturesque and agreeable.

As we approached the sea, the river behind us formed a long eanal, at the end of which we perceived the heigths that we had passed between ; their slopes were tinged by a setting sun not visi- ble to us. Swans were sailing before us, and herons were repair- ing to land to seek their accustomed retreat. The whole stron^y reminded me of the rivers and scenery of America, when, al night, I left my bark canoe, and kindled a fire on an unknown shore. All at once, the hills between which we were winding, falling back to the right and left, the sea opened upon ear view.

P t


From tke foot of the two promontorieB extended a low traet, h«V under water, formed by the aUuvious matterB deposited by the river. We moored our vessel ckwe to this marshy iq>ot, mmr a hut, the last kan of Anatolia*

Ob the 12th, at four ia the morning, we weighed anchor with a light favourable breese, and in less than half an hour we cleared the mouth of the river. The scene is worthy of being describee. Aurora dawned on our right behind the hig^ lands of the conth» lient ; on our left extended the sea of Mannom; ahead of us ap« {

peared*an island; the eastern sky of a deep red, grew paler aa J

the light increased ; the morning star sparkled in this empurpled radia&ce ; and below that beautiful star, the crescent of the moon was scarcely discernible, like the (aint traces of the most delicate \

pencil. One of the ancients would have said that Venus» Diana, {

and Aurora, had met to announce to him the meet briUiant of liM gods. This picture changed whilst I contemplated it ; greea and roseate rays proceeding from one common centre, soon shot from the east to the senith ; these colours died away, revived and were again extinguished, till the sun appearing on the horizon, melted all the tints of the atmos|>here into one universal white slig^t^ tinged with a golden glow.

We steered northward, leaving the coasts of Anatolia on oar right ; the wind lulled an hour after sunrise and we took to our oars. The calm continued the whole day. The sunset was coid^ red, and unattended with ai^ accidents of light ; the opposite horizon was greyish, tlie sea of a lead-colour, and without birds; t!i€ (ii.^tant coasts appeared of an azure hue, but had no brilliaBcy | Iht twilight was of very short duration, and was suddenly sue* eeeded by night At nine o'clock a breeze sprung up from tto east, and we proceeded at a brisk rate. On the 18th, at the re» turn of dawn, we found ourselves near the coast of Europe, of Port St. Stephen; this coast was low and naked. It was two months, to the very day and hour, since I left the eapital of clvilir xed nations, and I was now going to enter the capital of barbarous nations. How much 1 had seen in this short space of time ! How much older had I grown in these two months ! At half an hour after six we passed the powder mill, a long white building in the Italian style. Behind this edifice, extended the land of Europe, which appeared fl^t and uniform. Villages, whose sitwitioQ W9$



marked by trees, were scattered here and Hieffc. Abore flie point ef tills land which Ibmed a semi-oircttlar curve before lu, w» discerned some of the minarets of Constantinople.

At eight o^dock, a gallej-boat came along-side of ns. As ve were almost becalmed, I qidtted the felncea, and went with my people into the boat We kept dose under pohit Eurc^pa, on which now stands the castle of the Seven Towers, an old Gothio Ibrtreas now Ikfiing to ruin. Ccmstantinopte, and the coast of Asia in particalâr, were enveloped In a thick fog : the cypresses and the minarets, which I perceived through the vapour, extdbiteil the appearance of a leafless forest As we approached the point of the Seraglio, a breeze sprung up from the north, and as if by the waving of an enchanter's wand, the mist was swept in a feir moments from the picture, and I found myself all at once in the midst of the palaces àt the Commander of the Faithful. Before me the channe! of t^e Black Sea, meandered like a majestic river between charming hills : on my right I had the coast of Asia and the city of Scutari ; that of Europe lay on my left, forming, as it receded, a capacious bay full of large ships at an- chor, and imiumerable small vessels traversing it in every direc* tion. This bay, bounded by two hills, presented a view of Con* stantlnople and Galata ; disposed in the form of an amphitheatre. The Inmiense extent of these three cities of Galata, Constantin nople, and Scutari, with their buildings rising in stages one above another ; the cypressei, the minarets, the masts of ships Inter* mingled on every side ; the verdure of the trees ; the colours of the houses white and red ; the sea spreading its blue expanse belaw these objects and the sky its azure canopy above, alto- gether formed a picture, that filled me with admiration. It must indeed be allowed that those are guilty of no exaggeration, who assert that Constantinople exhibits a view superior in beauty to any in the world.*

Wc landed at Galata. I immediately remarked the bustle on the quays, and the throng of porters, merchants, and seamen, the latter announcing by the different colour of their complexions, by the diversity of their languages, and of their dress, by their robes, ^eur hats, their caps, their turbans, that they had come from

» for mf part, howeTcr, I prefer the bay of Naplc»,


eveiy part of Europe and Asia to inhabit thb frontier of two worlds. The almost total absence of women, the want of wheel carriages, and the multitude of dogs without masters, were th* three distinguishing characteristics that first struck me m the in- terior of this extraordina^ city. As scarcely any person walks abroad but in slippers, as there is no rumbling of coaches and carts, as there are no bells and scarcely any trades that require the aid of the hammer, a continual silence previdla. You sec^ arouud you a mute crowd of indÎTÎduals, seenûagly deùrous of passing unperceived, as if solicitous to escape the observation of a master. You are continually meeting with a bazar and a ce- metery, as if the Turks were bom only to buy^ to sell, and to die. The cemeteries, without wallsj and situated in the middle of the streets are magnificent groves of cypresses; the doves build their nests in these trees and share the peace of the dead. Here and there you perceive antique structures harmonising neither with the modem inhabitants, nor with the new edifices by which they are surrounded : you would almost imagine that they had been transported into this oriental city by the effect of enchantment No sign of joy, no appearance of comfort meets your eye. What you see is not a people, but a herd tended by an iman and slaughtered by a janissary. Here is no pleasure but sensual indulgence, no punishment but death. The dull tones of a mandoline sometimes issue from the extremity of a coflfee- room, and you perceive ihe children of infamy performing im- modest dances before a kind of apes seated a^'ound small circular tables. Amidst prisons and bagnios rises a seraglio, the capitoi of slav^ery : 'tis here that a consecrated keeper carefully preserves the germs of pestilence and the primitive laws of tyranny. Pallid .votaries are incessantly hovering about this temple, and throngmg to offer their heads to the idol. Hurried on by a fatal power, nothing can divert them from this sacrifice. The eyes of the des- pot attrack the slaves, as the looks of the serpent are said to' fas- cinate the birds on which he preys.

There are so many accounts of Constantinople, that it would be absurd in me to pretend to give a description of that city. The reader may, therefore, consult Stephen of Byzantium ; Gylli de Topographia Constaniinopokos ; Ducange's Constantinopolù Christiana; Porter's observations on the Religion, SfC. of ihe

fiOTPrr, Al^ BABSAftT.* 213

'Purkê ; Mouradgca d'Ohsson's Tah^au de VEinpire Oitoman ; Dallaway's Ancknt and Modem Constantinople ; Paul Lucas ; TTievenot : Touraefort ; lastiy, the Voyage pittoresque de Constan- iàwple et des Rives du Bosphore ; the fragmeats {lublished by M. Esuienard, See. &c. I There are seyerel înna at Fera which resemble those of the

I other cities of Europe ; to one of these inns I was conducted by I the porters, who ofiicioHsly seized my baggage. I then repaired to the French palace. I had the honour of seeing at Paria general Selmstiani, ambassador Irom France to thé Porte : he in* sifited on my dining every day at his table : and it was only on my earnest solicitation, that he permitted me to remain at my inn. By his directions, the Messrs. Franchini, the chief drogmans to the embassy, procured the firmans necessary for my voyage to Jerusalem, which the ambassador accompanied with letters ad- dressed to the superior of the religious ia tlie Holy Land, and to our consuls in Egypt, and in ^yria. Fearing lest I should run short of money, he gave me permission to draw bills upon him at sight whenever I might have occasion ; and adding to -these important services the attendons of politeness, he condescended to shdW me Constantinople himself, and to conduct me to the most remarka- ble structures. His aids-de-camp and the whole legation showed me so many civilities that I was absolutely put to the blush ; and I deem it my duty to express in this place my unfeigned gratitude to those gentlemen.

I know not how to speak of another person whom I ought to have mentioned th€ first. Her extreme kindness was accom- panied with a moving and pensive grace, which seemed to be a presentiment of what was to follow : she was nevertheless hapjiy, and a particular circumstance heighthened her felicity. I my- self shared that joy which was so soon to be converted into mourning. When I left Constantinople Madame Sebastiani was in bloom of health, hope, and youth ; and before my eyes again beheld our country, she was incapable of hearing the ^xpresaioji •f my gratitude :

Trojâ iafellce sepultam Detinet extremo terra aliéna solo,

At this very time a deputation from the fathers of .the Ho!/ It^d fafl^pencd to be at Constantinople. They had repaired thi-


We had on board near two liundred passengers, men, women and children; the like number of mats were seen ranged in order on either side of the ship between decks. A sfip of paper pasted above each mat was inscribed wit!) the name of the pro* prietor. Each of the pilgrims had suspended his staiF, his efaap- let, and a small cross over Us pillow. The captain's cabin was occupied by the papas who were the conductors of the company. At the entrance of this calnn, two antichambers had been con- trived : in one of these dark holes, about six feet square, I had the honour to lodge with my two servants ; and the apartment opposite to mine was occupied by a family. In this kind of re- public each lived as he pleased : the women nursed their children, the men smoked, or dressed their dinners, and the papas spent their time in conversation. On all sides were heard the sounds of mandolines, violins, and lyres : some sung, of hers danced, laughed, or prayed. Joy was imprinted on every face ; Jerusalem! said they to me, pointing to the south, and I replied, Jeruscdem ! In short, but for fear, we should have been the happiest creatures in the world ; but at the least gust of wind the seamen furled the Bails, and the pilgrims ejaculated : Christes ! Kyrie eleistm. The gale subsided, and we regûned our courage.

For the rest, I observed none of those irregularides that are spoken of by some travellers. We were, on the contrary, very modest and well behaved. The very evening of our departure two papas read prayers, which were attended by all the pilgrims with great devotion. They blessed the vessel ; a ceremony that was repeated with every gale. The singing of the Greek church k melodious enough, but has very little gravity. One singu- larity which I remarked was this : a boy began the ver-^e of a psajm in a hi^ tone, and thus proceeded on one single note.


ivhilè a papuB cliaated the same Terse on a different note, begin- ning when the boy had more than half finished. They hare an admirable Greek Kyrie eleison : it is but one note kept up by dif^ ferent voices, some bass, olher treble, executing, adtmte and Tnezza iroce, the octave, the fifth, and the third. The solemn and majestic effect of this Kjrrie is surprising. It is doubtless a rdie of the ancient nnging of the primitive church. I suspect that the other psalmody is that modem method introduced into the Greek ritual about the fourth century, and which St. Augustine had such ample reason to censure.

The very day after our departure, my fever returned with great violence, and'confined me to my mat. We proceeded at a rapid rate through the sea of Marmora, the ancient Propontis ; and passed the peninsula of Cysicus, the mouth of iBgos Potamos, andthe promontories of Sestos and Abydos. Neither Alexan- der and his army, Xerxes and his fleet, the Athenians and Spar- .tans, nor Nero and Leander could drive away the head-ach which distracted me ; but when I was told at six in the morning of the 21 at of September, that we were just going to double the castle of the Dardanelles, the fever was dispelled by the recol- lections of Troy. I crawled upon deck ; the first object that incit my eye was a lofty promontory crowned with nirte mills : this was Cape Sigeum. At the foot of the cape I distinguished two tumuli, the tombs of Achilles and Patrocius. The mouth of the Simois was on the left of the new castle of Asia ; still farther astern of us appeared Cape Rhœtus and the tomb of Ajax. In th«  distance rose the chain of mount Ida, the declivities of which, viewed from the point where I was, appeared gentle, and of an harmonious colour ; and Tenedos was ahead of us.

My eye expatiated over this picture, and involuntarily return- ed to the tomb of Achilles. I repeated these verses of the poet:

'A/up' ttirola-t ^%ruvàL fci yaf xai tt/4,6/jtoitt *thfji^9i Xt(/«t^tv 'A^T'iiMr ifçèc ot^atoc pCt^nralaif »A»Tii îîTJ v^ùv^cua-tif tfrt ttkatu Exmo-tovt»

    • ÇU JHF TnXfpAijiç f» irovroftv 'Ay^cctV/y tin

Toif h yvv ytyùiAO-t Keti it f/ntiaria^^tf «ff-oyret/.

OdysB. lib. £4.

    • The army of the varlilte Greeks erecU on the shore a vast aûd admirable

nonoment, which is perceived afar off by those who pass it oo the sea^ and wiH attract ths notice of present and future generations."



On the mormiig of the 22dy the north wind Bpnmg up with es- | ^aordiuary violence. We ought to have put into Ohio, to takiB some more piigrim& on board ; but through the captain's tinûditjr and bad management; we were obliged to run for the port of Tebesmé, am! there come to an anchor at the foot of a very dan- g(»rous rock near the wreck of a large Egyptian vessel.

This Asiatic port seems to have something fatal attached to it, Here the Turkish fleet was burned in 1770, by count Orlow, and here the Romans destroyed the gallies of AntiochuS) 191 years before the Chrbtian œra; if, however, the Cyssus of the ancieqts he the Tchesmé of the modems, M. de Ghoiseul has ]^ven- a plan and a view of this port The reader will probably recollect that I was off Tchesmé in my voyage to Smyrna, on the 1st of j^eptember, twenty-one days before mj second passage thiongb t|ie Archipelago.

We .waited on tlie 22d and 23d for the pilgrims from the island of Chic. John went on shore, and procured me an abundant sup- l^ly of pomegranates from Tchesmé. But 1 have just mentioned John's name, and jthis reminds me that I have yet said nothing to the reader coi^ceming this new interpreter, the successor of the good4iearted Joseph. He was the most mysterious creature I ever met with : two small eyes sunk deep in their sockets, and hidden in a manner by a very prominent nose, two red mustachesi a continuel! habit of smiling, and a certain suppleness in his de» portaient, wil! give at once an idea of his person. When he had oc- casion to speak to me, he would advance sidelong, and after making a long circuit, come almost creeping, and wisper in my ear the most trilling tbing in the world. As soon as I perceived him, I used to crj', " Walk upright, and speak loud !" — a piece of advice that ni^y others besides poor John stand in need of. lie wa» acquainted with the principal papas ; he related to me yery extra- ordinary things ; hé brought me compliments from the pilgrims who lived in the hold, and whom } bad never s^en. At meal- times John never had apy appetite, so far wa8 he above all vulgar wants ; but no sooner had Julian done dinner, than John would bUp down into the boat where my provisions were kept, and iii|- (der the pretext of putting things to rights in the hampers, he l^ould swaUow large slices of ham, devour a fowl, empty a bottle of yno^y and that with such despatch that the motion of |i|8 lifv

BÔTrri AND BAlBAftT. Jttl

WS0 nut io be perceived. He would then retnm nitti a look of dejectioii, and ask me if I wanted Inm for any thing. I exhorted him to keep up his spirits, and to take alittle nouriiAmient, other- wise he ran the risk of making himself ill. The Greek thou|^t m0 his dupe, and this gave him so much pleasure, that I never unde- ceived him. Notwithstanding these small faults, John was in the bottom a very honest man, and deserved the confidence reposed in him by his masters. It may not be amiss to observe that t have delineated thb portrait and some others merely to gratify those readers who are curious to know something about the pei^ •ons to whom they are mtroduced. For my part, had I a talent for drawing caricatures of this kind, I would assiduously strive to smother it ; whatever exhibits human nature in a ludricrous ligli^ serais to me undeserving of esteem. Of course, I mean not io include in this condemnation genuine wit, delicate raillery, the grand irony of the oratorical style, and the higher department of comedy.

In the night between the 22d and â3d, the ship brou^t home her anchor, and we expected eveiy moment to run foul of the wreck of the Alexandrian vessel, near which we lay. The pil- grims from Ohio, sixteen in number, arrived on the SSd at noon* At ten P. M. the night being very fine, we got under weigh with a moderate breeze at east, which shifted to the north before day- break on the 24th.

We passed between Nicaria and Samos, celebrated for its fer^ tility, its tyrants, and, above all, for giving birth to iPytbagoras* The beautiful episode in Telemachus has effi&ced all that the poets have told us concerning Samos. We entered the channel formed by the Sporades, Patmos, Leria, Cos, &c. and the coast of Asia. There flowed the winding Meander, there stood I^he- sus, Miletus, Halicamassus, and Cnidus. I greeted, for the last time, the native land of Homer, Herodotus, Hyppocrates, Thaïes, and Aspasia ; but I could perceive neither the temple of Ephe- sus, nor the sepulchre of Mausolus, nor the Venus of Cnidus ; and bat for the works of Pococke, Wood, Spon, and Choiseul, I should not have recognised the promontory of .Mycale, by its modem and inglorious name.

On the 26th at six in A. M. we came to an anchor in the har^ hour t>f Rhodes, to take on board a pilot for the coast of 8yrfa« 



I landed, and went to the house of the French consul, tt. HagaV' Ion. Still the eame reception, the same hospitality, the same po- ^liteness ! M. Magallon was ill ; he nevertheless introduced me Ut the Turkish governor, a very good-natured man, who made me a present of a black kid, and gave me permissioA to go where- •ver I pleased. I showed him a firman, which he laid upon his head, declaring that he carried all the friends of the Grand Bignor in that manner. I was impatient for the termination of thi» interview, that I might at least get a sight of. that celebrated Rhodes, where I had but a moment to spend.

Here conmienced for me an antiquity that formed the fink be* tween the Grecian antiquity which I had just quitted, and the- Hebrew antiquity which I was about to explore. The monu- ments of the Knights of Rhodes roused my curiosity, which wa» somewhat fatigued by the ruins of Sparta and Athens. Some wise laws respecting commerce,* a few verses by Pindar on the- consort of the Sun and the daughter of Venus,! some comic po- ets, and painters, and monuments more distinguished for magniF tude than beauty ; such I believe is all that can remind the traveller of ancient Rhodes. The Rhodlans were brave ; it is a singular circumstance, that they acquired cekbrify in arms for havii^ gloriously sustained a siege, like the knights their successora. Rhodes, honoured with the presence of Cicero and Pompey, was- contaminated by the residence of Tiberius. During the reign o£ Honorius, the Persians made themselves masters of Rhodes. It was afterwards taken by the generals of the caliphs, in the year 647 of our œra, and retaken by Anastasius, emperor of the East» The Venetians gdned possession of the island in 1203, but it.wa» wrested from them by John Ducas. — The Turks conquered it from the Greeks, tn 1304, 1308, or 1419, it was seised by the knights of St John of Jerusalem, by whom it was retained about two centuries, and surrendered to Solyman II, on the 25th of De- cember, 1522. On the subject of Rhodes, the reader may con^ suit Coronelli, Dapper, Savaiy, and Choiseul.

Rhodes exhibited to me, at every step, traces of our manners^

  • 8ee LeunelayhiB's Trea^ie on the Maritime Law of the Greeks and Ro« 

maDB. The excellent ordinance of Louis XW, on tlie subject of the marine, retains several chiuses of the Rhodian laws»

t The njmph Bhodes.


J r t.

J ,' ^ » '/

' ^'^^^-JLIBKAKY




«Dd memorials of my country. I foimd here » little France in the midst of Greece. I walked through a long street, still called the street of the knights.. It consists of (Grothic houses, the walls of which are studded with Gallic devices, and the arms of fami- lies that figure in our annals. I remarked the lilies of France crowned, and as fresh as if they had just come from the hands of the sculptor* The Turks, who have every where mutilated Ihe monuments of Greece, have spared those of chivalry ; Chris- tian honour astonished infidel bravery, and the Saladins felt res- pect for the Coucis.

At the end of the street of the knights, yon come to three ■Gothic arches which lead to the palace of the grand master. This palace is now converted into a prison. A half ruined con- Tent, inhabited by two monks, is €he only memorial at Rhodes of that religion wMch there performed such miracles. The fathers conducted me to their chapel. You there see a Gothic virgin, with her child, painted oa wood ; the arms of d' Aubnsson, the ^rand master, are carved at the bottom of the picture. This cu* rions piece of antiquity was discovered some years since by a «lave who was at work in the garden belonging to the convent. In the chapel is a second altar dedicated to St. Louis, whose image is met with all over the east, and whose death bed I saw at Carthage. I left my mite upon this altar, requesting the fathers to say a mass for my prosperous voyage, as if I had foreseen the dangers I should encounter on the coast of Rhodes, in my return Irom Egypt

The commercial port of Rhodes would be very safe, if the an- cl^it works which defended it were rebuilt At the extremity of this harbour stands a wall flanked with two towers. These tow- ers, accordhig to •tradition carrent in the country, occupy the site of the two rocks which served as a base for the Colossus. Every body knows that the ships did not pass between the legs of this statue; I mention it merely not to onut any thing.

Very near this first harbour are situated the basin for gallies and the dock yard. A frigate of thirty guns was then on the stocks, and was to be built enth-ely of fir firom the mountains of the Iri^nd.

The coast of Rhodes opposite to Caramania, the ancient Doris and Caria, is nearly upon a level with the sea ; but the land rises


in the intaior; and a lof iy mo^mtain, with a flat sumxnit mentfmied by all the geographers of antiqiiily, appears very con^icuouB. At lindue are yet left some Testiges of the temple of Minerva ; but OamiroB and lalysns have totally disappeared. Rhodes for- meriy supplied all Anatolia with oil ; at present it has not enough for its own consumption. It still exports a small quantity of com. The vineyards 3ield an excellent wine, resembling those of the Rhone. Hie original plants were probably brou^t from Dau- phiné by tiie chevaliers of that tongue; a conjecture which is strengthened by ttàs circumstance, that these wines are here called as in OyproBf Conmiandery wines.

Our books of Geography inform us that Rhodes has manufao- tnres of velvet and tapestry, which are held in hi^ estimation. Some coarse linens, which are made up into furniture equally coarse, are the only produce in this line of the industry of the Rhodians. These people, whose cdk>nies of old founded Naple» and Agrigentnm, now occupy no more than a corner of their <iwn desert island. An aga, with about a hundred degenerate janissaries, are sufficient to overawe a herd of slaves. It b a wonder tiiat the ord^ of Malta never attempted to recover its ancient domain ; notiUng would have been more easy than t» re* gam possession of the island of Rhodes ; the knights might with- cut much trouble, have repaired the fortifications, which are yet very good ; they would not have been a second time expelled; for the Turks, who were the first people in Europe, that opened trenches before a place, are now the very last of all in the art of «leges.

At four in the aftenioon of the 26th, I parted froiû M. MagaHon^ after leaving with him some letters, which he promised to forward, by way of Garamania, to Constantinople. I Uted a galley boat, and followed our ship, which was already under sail, having taken on board her coasting pilot, a German, who had been settled at Rhodes for many years. We steered witii a view to make &e cape at the pobit of Caramanla, formerly the promontory of Ghi«  marain Lyda. Astern of us, Rhodes exhibited in the distane# A bluish range of coast under a golden sky. In this range we dis^ tingqished two square mountains which seemed to have been cut out expressly for the erection of easties, and neariy resembled In Aeir form the acropolis of Oorinttiy Atibens, and Pergaoins.


The 36th was an unluckf day. We lay becalmed off the conr tinent of Asia, nearly abreast of Gape Ghelidoma, which forms the pomt of the gulf of Satalia. I saw on our left the lofty t»eakB of riie Cragus, and called to nnnd the verses of the poets on the fri^d Lycia. I knew not that I should one day execrate the sum- mits of this Taurus which I now contemplated with pleasure, and fondly reckoned among the celebrated mountams whose tops I had beheld. The currents were stroi^, and earned us out to sea, as we found the following day. The slnp, which was in balliist» iabowred exceedingly : we shivered our main-top-mast and the fore-top-sail yard ; which, to sailors so inexperienced as we, was a very serious misfortune.

It is really surprising to see how the Greeks navigate ^eir ships. The' i^ot sits cross legged, with his pipe in his mouth, holding the tiller, which to be on a level with the hand that guides it, must grase the deck. Before this pilot, who is half reclined, and cod» seciuently can exert no force, stands a compass, which he knows nothing about, and which he never looks at. On the least ap- pearance of danger, French or Italian charts are spread out upon the deck ; the whole crew, with the captain at th^ir head, lie down upon their bellies ; they examine ttie chart ; they foUow the lines delineated upon it with their fingers ; diey endeavour to find ont where they are; each ^ves his opinion: they conclude at last that it is impossible to make head or tail of these conjuring books of tke Franks, fold up the map again, lower the sails, or bring the wind astern : they then have recourse i^^ain to their pipes and their chaplets, recommend themselves to Providence and awatt the event In this way many a ship gets two or three hundred leagues out of her course, and finds herself off the coast of Africa instead of making that of Syria ; but all this cannot prevent the crew from joining in a dance on the first gleam of sun-shjne. The attÂent Greeks were, in many respects but amiable and credulous ehikkr^D, who passed with all the levity of in&ncy firom grief to joy, and the modem Greeks have retained something of this cha- raeler: hqipy at least to find in this versatility of dbposition some rehdT fiNim thdff woes !

About ei^t in the evening, the wind got round again to the north ; and the hopes of soon being at the «id of thehr voyage, •Qce more eheered the spirits of ttie pOgrims. Qor German pilot


informed ub that at break of day we should perceive Cape 8t Iphane m the island of Ojprus ; and nothing was now thought of but how to enjoy life. The whole company had supper brought upon deck ; they divided into groups, and each sent to his neigh bour whatever that neighboâr happened to stand in need of. I had adopted the family that lodged opposite to me, at the door of the captain's cabin ; it consisted of a young woman, her two children, and her aged father. This old man was performing his third voyage to Jerusalem ; he had never yet seen a Latin pil- grim, and the good creature wept for joy when he looked at me : I therefore supped with his family. Never did I behold a scene more pleasing and more picturesque. The wind was cool, the sea beautiful, and the sky serene. The moon seemed to hover be* twecn the masts and among the rigging ; sometimes she appeared without the sails, and all the ship was illuminated ; at others she was hidden behind the sails, and the group of pilgrims were again thrown into the shade. Who would not have blessed reli^on, on reflecting that these two hundred persons, so happy at this mo- ment, were, nevertheless, slaves bowed down by the yoke of ty- ranny 7 They were preceeding to the tomb of Christ, to bury in oblivion the past glory of their countiy, and to seek consolatio» for their present afflictions.

On the morning of the 27th, to the great surprise of the pilot, we found ourselves in open sea, and out of nght of any land. A calm overtook us : the consternation was general. Where were we ? Were we within or without the island of Cyprus? The whole day passed in this extraordinary dispute. To have talked of taking the reckoning, or the altitude, would have been Hebrew to our sailors. When the breeze sprung up towards evening they were thrown into a new embarrassment On what tack were we to steer ? The pilot, who imagined that we were between the north coast of Cyprus and the gulf of Satalia, proposed to keep the ship's head to the south, to get sight of the former; but the consequence would have been, that, had we passed the island, we should have gone, by following that point of the compass, right to Egypt. The captain was of opinion that we ought to steer to the north, in order to find the coast of Caramania ; tiiis would have been putting back, and besides, the wind was contrary to that course. My opinion was asked ; for in all cases of any difll-


JMTM»» Aim BXàMAXt. 2âV

eél^, the Greeks and TurkB invariably hare reeotnree to the Franks. My advice was, that we should steer to the eastward, for an obvious reason : we were either within or without the island of Cyprus ; now, in either case, by standing to the east, we should be maidng progress. Besides, if we were within the island, we could not fail to see land to the larboard or starboard in a veiy short time, either at Cape Anemur, in Caramania, or at Cape Conachitti, in Cyprus. We should then have nothiog to do but to double the eastern point of that island, and afterwards drop down the coast of Syria*

This method of proceeding seemed the most eligible, and we tamed the ship's head to the east At five in the morning of the 28th, to our great joy, we descried Cape de Gattc, in the island of Cyprus, bearing to the north, about eight or ten leagues distant Thus we found ourselves without the island, and in the proper di- tection for Jaffa. The currents had carried us out to sea to the south west

The wind fell at noon : we were becalmed the rest of the day and part of the 2dth. We were joined by three fresh passengers ; two water-wagtûls and a swallow : I know not what could have induced the former to quit tiieir companions ; as to the latter it was going perhaps to Syria, and it came periiaps from France. I was tempted to mquire of it about the paternal roof which I had so long quitted. I recollect that when I was a child, I passed whole hours in watching, with a certain melancholy pleasure, the swallows flying about in autumn ; as if some secret instinct had whispered that I should be a traveller like those birds. They assem- bled about the end of September among the rushes of a large pond ; there twittering and making a thousand evolutions over the sur* fece of the water, they seemed to be trying their wings and pre- paring for a long pilgrimage. Among all the recollections of ex- istence, why do we prefer those of our infancy? The pleasure? ef selMove, the illusions of youth, appear not to the memory clothed in charms ; we think them, on the contrary, insipid or bitter : but the most trifling circumstances awaken in the heart (he emotions of childhood, and always with new attractions. On the banks of the lakes of America, in an unknown desert, which relates nothing to the traveller, in a region which has nothing to boast but the grandeur of Solitude, a swallow was suflicient to^

gC6 VmAVClA I3f «RSKGS, 9àJUKVntmf

reTiT6thesc«iies of the early days of my fife» as it recalled tbém to my memoiy on the sea of Syria, in sight of an antique land re-echohig the voice of ages and the traditions of history.

The currents now carried ns towards the bland of Gypnit. We descried its low, sandy, and apparently sterile coasts On these shores Mythology placed her most pleasing fables.

IpM Paphnm anUiiiiû sbit, ledetqae veviriC Lttte nai» ubi, tempkim illi» oentamque Sabso Thare oaleat ans^ tertisque reoentibftt halant*

<< As soon as I went on shore," said the son of Ulysses, ^' I perceived a certain softness in the air, which, though it rendered the body indolent and mactive, yet brought on a disposition to gayety and wantonness; and, indeed, the inhabitants were so averse to labour, that the country, though extremely fertile and pleasant, was almost wholly uncultivated. I met, in every street crowds of women loosely dressed, ânging the praises of Venus, and going to dedicate themselves to the service of her temple. Beauty and pleasure sparkled in their countenances, but their beanly was tainted by affectation; and the modest slmplicifyi from which female charms principally derive their power, was wanting ; the dissolute air, tibe studied look, the flaunting dress, and the lascivious gait, the expresâve glances that seemed t«  wander in search after those of the men, the visible emulation who should kindle the most ardent passion, and whatever else I discovered in these women, moved only my contempt and aver- sion, and I was disgusted by all that they did with a desh^ to please.

    • I was conducted to a temple of the goddess, of which there

are several in the island, for she is worshipped at Cythera, Idalia, and Paphos. That whidi I visited was at Cythera : the structure, which is all of marble, is a complete peristyle : and the columns are so large and lofty that its appearance is extremely majestic*: on each front over the architrave and frieze, are large pediments, on which the most entertaining adventures of the goddess are re. presented in bas-relief. There is a perpetual crowd of people with offerings at the gate, but within the limits of the consecrated ground no victim is ever slain ; the fat of bulls and heifers is never burnt, as at other temples; nor are the rites of pleasure


l^rofaned with their blood : the beasts that are heie offered aie only presented before the altar ; nor are any accepted but those that are young, white, and without blemish ; they are dressed with purple fillets embroidered with gold, and their horns are de* eorated with gilding and flowers; after they have been presented, they are led to a proper place at a conâderable distance, and killed for the banquet of the priests.

^ Perfumed liquors are also offered, and wfaies of the richest flavour. The habit of the priests is a long white robe, fringed with gpld at the bottom, and bound round them with golden gir- dles ; the richest aromatics of the east burn night and day upon the altars, and the smoke rises in a cloud of fragrance to the ddeSé All the columns of the temple are adorned with festoons ; all the sacrificial vessels are of gold ; and the whole building is surround* ed by a consecrated grove of odoriferous myrtle : none are per- mitted to present the victims to the priest, or to kindle the hal«  lowed fire, but boys and girls of consummate beauty. But this temple, however magnificent^ was rendered infiunous by the dis- solute manners of the votaries."^

la regard to Cyprus, we had better adhene to poetry than his* tory, unless we can derive pleasure from the recollection of oa» of the most flagrant acts of injustice ever committed by the Ro- mans, and a scandalous expedition of Cato's. But it is a singu- lar thing to represent to ourselves, that in the middle ages^ the temples of Amathus and Idalia were transformed into dungeons* A French- gentleman was king of Paphos, and barons covered with coats of mail were quartered in the sanctuaries of Cupid and the Graces. In Dapper's Jtrehipeiago may be seen the complete histotiy, af Cyprus ; and the abbé Mariti has treated of the mod- em revolutions and the present state of this island^ which, from its position^ is still a place of importance.

The weather was so fine, and the air so mild, that ail the passen*> gem continued the whole night upon deck. I had a contest about a little comer of the quarter-deck» with two lusty ealoyers» wh0 gave it up to me, bat not without grumbling. Here I was sleep- ing at six hi the morning of the 30th of September, when I waa roused, by a confused' sotind of voices : I opened my eyes and

• tcleraachus. Book IV.



perceired all the pilgrims looking towards Uie prow of the resset I asked what was the matter, and they called out to me : SignicTf tt Cârmeio ! Mount Carmel ! A breeze had sprung up at eight th«  preceding eyening, and in the night we had come in sight of the coast of Sjria. As I had lain down in my clothes, 1 was soon on my legs, inquiring which was the sacred mountain* Each was eager to point it out to me, but I could see nothing of it because the sun began to rise in our faces. This moment had something religious and august ; all the pilgrims, with their chaplets in their hands, had remained in silence in the same attitude, awaiting the appearance of the Holy Land: The chief of the papas was pray* ing aloud } nothing was to be heard but this prayer and the noise made in her course by the ship, wafted by a most favourable wind upon a brilliant sea« From time to time a cry was raised on the prow, when Carmel again appeared in sight At length 1 perceived that mountain myself, Uke a round spot beneath the tuys of the sun ; I fell upon my knees after the manner of the Latin pilgrims. I felt not that agitation which seized me on be- holding, for the first time, the shores of Greece y but the sight of the cradle of the Israelites and the birth-place of cliristianity filled me with awe and veBeration. I was just arriving at that land of wonders, at the sources of the most astonishing poesy, at the ^t, where, even humanly speaking, happened the greatest event that ever changed the face of die world ; I mean the coming of the Messiah : I was just rea^^iisg those shores which were visited in fike manner by Godfrey de BouiUon, Ralmond de St. Gilles, Tancred the Brave, Robert the Strong, Richard Cœur de lion, and that St Louis^ whose virtues were the admiration of infidels. But how durst an obscure pilgrim like me tread a soil consecrated by 80 many illustrioua pilgrims?

As we approached nearer and the sun got higheri the land be* came more distinctly visible. The last point that we perceived hi the distance on our left, towards the north, was the cape oC Tyre ; next came Gape Blanco, St John d'Acre, Mount Carmel with Caifa at its foot, Tartoura, formeriy Dora, the Pilgrims*" Castle, and Cœsarea, the ruins of which are to be seen. We knew that Jaffa must be right ahead of us,- but it was not yet dlscemi^ Ue. The coast then gradually sunk to- the last cape towards the south, where it was entirely lost : here commence the shoref


af aacient PaJestine, here they join those of Egypt^ and are nearly upon a level with the aea. The land, eight or ten league» distant from us^ appeared generally white with black undulations produced by the shadows; there was nothing prominent in the oblique line which it formed from north to south : Mount Cariqiel itself was not conspicuous ; the whole was unifonn and dull A file of white and indented clouds followed the direction of the land upon the horizon, and seemed to repeat the appearance of it in the sky.

At noon the wind failed us ; a breeze sprung up at four o'clock, but through the ignorance of the pilot, we overshot our mark* We were steering in full sail for Gaza, when the pilgrims, from the inspection of the coast, discovered the mistake of our Gei^ man ; we were then obliged to put the ship about, which occa- sioned a loss of time, and night came on. We, however, ap* preached Jaffa, and could even perceive the lights in the town» when a stiff breeze beginning to blow from the north-west, the captain was afraid to venture into the road in the night, and sQd- (denly turning the head of the ship, he put off again to sea.

I was standing on the poop and beheld the land receding from us with real mortification. In about half an hour I perceived fiomething like the distant reflection of a fire on a peak of a cjbain of mountains; these were the< mountains of Judea. The moon that produced the effect with which I was struck^ soon showed her ample and blushing orb above Jerusalem. A friendly hand seemed to place this pharos on the summit of Sion, to guide us to the Holy City. Unfortunately we were not disposed like the Magi, to follow the kindly luminary, and her refulgence served only to light us from the so ardently wished-for port

The next morning, October Ist, at break of day, we found ourselves becalmed off the coast, nearly a-breast of Cœsarea : we were now obliged to range again to the south along the shore. The little wind we had was fortunately fair. In the distance rose the amphitlieatre of the mountains of Judea, at the foot of which a spacious plain descended to the sea. Scarcely any traces of cultivation were perceptible, and not a habitation was to be seen» but a Gothic castle in ruins surmounted with a falling and deser- ted minaret. On tlie border of the sea, the land was terminated by yellow cliffs streaked with black; from these sloped the Deach,

831^ TBAFEL8 IN GfiEECË, f AIifi0TUTS|

on which we saw and heard the billowB breaking. The Arab, m* Ting on this inhospitable shore, pursues with eager eye the vect fiel that scuds along the horizon ; he lurks in expectaticm of tira plunder of the wreck, on that very shore where Christ gave ih» injunction to feed the hungry and to clothe the naked.

At two P. M. we at length again descried Jaffa. We wexm |)erceived from the city; a boat put off froni the harbour, aiifl came to meet us. I availed myself of this (^portunity to send John on shore, with the letter of recommei^datipn given me al Constantinople by the deputies from the Holy Land, and addresr sed to the fathers of Jaffa. This letter I accompanied with «* note from myself,

An hour after John'9 departure we caipe to an anchor off Jaffa, the town bearing south-east, and tiie minaret of the mosque eastn* Bouth-east. I am particular in marking the points of the compass in this place, for a reason of some consequence : the Latin ves-» Bels usually bring-to farther out in the offing ; they are then upon . a ledge of rocks which are liable to cut their cables ; whereas the Greek vessels by stafiding in closer to the shore, find a much safer bottoip between the basin of Jaffa and the rocks.

Jaffa exhibits a miserable assemblage of houses huddled to- gether, and built in t)]e form of an amphitheatre, on ihe declivity of a lofty hill. The calamities which this town has so often ex- perienced haye multiplied th^ number of its ruins. A wall be-», ginning and ending at the sea, encompasses it on the land-side and secures it from any sudden surprise.

Galley-boats soon approached froni all quarters to fetch the pilgrims : the dress, features, complexion, look, and language of the masters of these boats, at once announced the Arab race and the frontiers of the desert. The landing of the passengers was - conducted without tumult, but with a degree of eagerness on their part that wasf very excusable. This crowd of men, women, and • children, did not set up those shouts, those bowlings, and lamenta- tions, represented in some imaginary and ridiculous accounts. Tliey were perfectly composed, and among them all 1 was cer- tainly the most agitated.

At length I perceived a boat coming with my Greek servant, accompanied by three of the religious. The latter knew me by mj Frank dress, and waved tbeh: hands in the most friendly mMSt



Ber. they soon reached the ship. Though these fathers were Spaniards, and spoke an Italian that was difficult to be understood^ we shook hands like real countrymen. I went with them into ttie boat) and we entered the port by an aperture formed between two rocks, and dangerous even for so small a Tessel. The Arabs OH shore advanced into the water up to their waists, to tak« as upon their shoulders. Here ensued a diverting scene. My ser* ▼abt bad on a light drab great coat, and white being the colour of distinction among the Arabs, they judged that he was the sdeik. Accordingly they laid hold of him and carried him off in triumph in spite of his protestations, whilst I, thanks to my blue coat, rode obscurely on the back of a ragged beggar.

We proceeded to the hospital of the fathers, a plain wooden bditâinç close to the harbour, commanding a very fine view of the sea. My host first led me to the chapel which I found lighted up, and where they returned thanks to God for having sent them a brother — affecting Christian institutions, by means of which tha traveller finds friends and accommodations in the most barba- rous regions ; institutions of which I have elsewhere spoken, and which can never be sufficiently admired !

The names of the three religious who had come on board to fetch me, were John Traylos Penna, Alexander Roma, and Mar- tin Alexano. They composed at this time the whole establish^ ment, the rector Don Juan De la Conception being absent.

On coming from the chapel, the fathers ushered me into my cell, in which was a table, a bed, ink, paper, fresh water, and clean linen. To form a true estimate of those comforts, you must be cooped up as long as I had been in a Greek ship with two hundred pilgrims. At eight in the evening we repaired to the refectory. Here we found two other fathers, Manuel San- da and Francisco Mnnoz, who had come from Rama, and were bound to Constantinople. They commonly say the Benedidte^ preceded by the Be prqfundU — a memorial of death which christianitry mingles with all the actions of life, to render them more solemn, as the ancients did with their banquets to give a higher zest to their pleasures ! on a small, clean, separate table, they set before me poultry, fish, excellent fruit, such as pome- ^nates, water-melons, grapes, and dates m their prime ; I had PA ipucb Gypms wme and Turkey coffee as { chose to ùà^


While I was âins iiberaliy supplied vnth good timigs, the ^Uien ate ODïy a little lîsh without salt or oil. They were cheerful with moderation, familiar with politeness ; asjked no useless quêtons ' and showed no vain curiosity. All their conversation turned oil the subject of my tour and the measures that ought tp bie adopte4 U> enable me to accomplish it in safety : " for/' said thc^ ** wc; are now answerable for you to your country." They had already ■ent off an express to the sheik of the Arabs in the mountains of Judea» and another to the &ther procurator of Rama. " We re< eeived you, sidd Father Munoz to me, *' .with a heart lvn§ndo j^ bkt/ico" This good Spaniard had no occasion to assure me of the sincerity of his sentiments ; I could easily have discovered It in the benignity of his looks.

This truly christian and charitable reception in that land where ehristianity and charity took their rise ; this apostolic hpsr fnftafity in a place where the first of the apostles preached the éoctrines of the gospel, moved me to the very heart : I recollect- ed that other missionaries had received me with the same cor- diality in the wilds of America. The religious of the Holy Land have the more merit, for while they dispense, with liberal haiid» tfw charity of Jesus Christ to the pilgrims to Jerusalem» thej have reserved the Cross that was erected on these shores fotr themselves. This father, with a heart so Hmpido t tiancoy ne- yertheless assured me that the life which he led for these filty years seemed to him un vero paradUo. Would the reader like to know what sort of a paradise this is ? Every day a new op- pression, menaces of the bastinado, of fetters, of death. Thesis peligiouB having last easter washed the linen belonging to tbe altar, the water impregnated with starch, as it ran away from the content, whitened a stone* A Turk passed, and seeing this ■tone went and informed the cadi, that the fiithers had been im- pairing their house. The cadi hastened to the spot, decided that the stone which was black had fa|^come white, and without hearing what the religious had to say, obliged tiiem to pay ten purses. The very day before my arrival at Jaffa, tbe father procurator of the hospital had been threatened with the rope by one of the aga's attendants in the presence of the aga himself» The latter sat quietly curling his wiskers without deigning to «peak a word io favour of the dqgn Such is the real paratUset^ft


Bûrrr» akd bjUibaet. têê

théée monks, who, according to some trayellers, are Cttle sore* feigns Id the Hoty Land, and enjoy the highest honours.

  • At ten o^clock my host conducted me back through a long

Jtassage to my cell. The billows dashed agnlnst the rocks of the harbour : with the window shut, you would hare thought it a fempest ; when it was open you beheld a serene sky, a peacefid moon, a calm sea, and the vessel of the pilgrims lying in the of^ fing. The fathers smiled at the surprise which I showed at Ûàs Contrast. I said to them in bad Latin : Eece monadns smSlUuéb îlntefUlt : qaardufncmnque marefremUumreddat, eis plaeidœ semper itndœ videntur ; omnia iranqtdUitas, serenis ardmis,

I spent part of the night iu 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 wiiere Leviathan leavea traces behind him like abysses ; that sea to which the I«ord set harriers and gates ; that affrighted deep winch beheld God and fled. This was neither the wild ocean of Canada, nor the play«- ftil waves of Greece : to the south extended that Egypt, ùâ» 'Widch the Lord came riding upon a swift cloud to dry up the èhaïmels of the Nile and to overthrow the idols ; to the north waa seated that queen of cities whose merchants were princes; ^ Howl ye ships of Tarshish for your strength is laid waste ! fChe city of confusion is broken down ; every house is shut that no man may come in. When thns it shall be in the midst of the land among the people ; there shall be, as the shakmg of an oIiv«» free, and as the gleaning grapes when the vintage is done." ifere are other antiquities explained by another poet: Isaiah ssc- eeede Homer.

But this was not all : this sea which I contemplated washed the shores of Gallilee on my right, and the plain of Asealoa on »y left In the former I met with the traditions of the palti*- «idud lifcy and of the nativity of our Saviour; in the latter I discovered memorials of the Crusades, and the shades of the be- ^ roes of Jerusalem*

Orauide e mirabil cosa era il vedere, Sec

' <* What a grand and admirable spectacle to behold the two eamps advancing liront against front, the battalions fomdog in


order, impatient to marebi ÛQjpatieiit for the attack» The streuv^ ing banners float in the ur, and the wind waves the plumes ott the lofty helmets. The garments, fringes, deiices, colours, arms of gold and iron glisten in the rays of the sun."

It was with reluctance that I withdrew mj eyes from that sea -which revlTes so many recollections ; but exhausted nature must be recruited by sleep*

. Father Juan de la Conception, rector of Jafia, and president of the convent, arrived on the morning of the next day, October 2d. I purposed to see the town, and pay a visit to the aga, who had sent to complim^t me ; but the president dissuaded me frcun this intention.

^ You know nothing about these people," said he, ^ What you take for politeness is mere espionnage. They have sent to salute you for no other purpose than to find out who you are, whether you are rich, and whether they can plunder you. If yon would see the aga, you must first carry him presents: he will not fail in that case to give you, in spite of all you can say, an escort to Jerusalem ; the aga of Rama will swell this escort; the Arabs, persuaded that a rkh Frank is going on pilgrimage to the Holy Sepulchre, will raise tiie duties ci cqff^tro^ or attack you. At the gates of Jerusalem you will find the camp of the pacha of Damascus, who has come to levy contributions, before he conducts tiie caravan to Mecca : the show you make wiU give <- umbrage to this pacha, and will expose you to new extortions. On your arrival at Jerusalem, three or four thousand piastres wifi be demanded for your escort The populace, informed of your coming, will annoy you to such a degree, that if you pos- - sessed millions, you could not satisfy their rapacify. The streets wiB be obstructed as you pass, and you will not be able to viât the sacred places. Take my advice, and to- morrow we wiU difr' ' guise ouHB^Ives as pilgrims, and proceed together to Rama : there I shall receive an answer to my express ; if it be favourable, yon may depart at night, and arrive safe and sound, with little expense, at Jerusalem."

In support of this advice, the father urged a thousand exam- ples, and in particular that of a Polish bishop, who had nearly lost his life two ^^eare before, on account of too great an appear- * ance of wealths This I relate merely to show to what a pitch

t6ttù^(Âi&ùi iore of gold^ anarchy and barbarity, Are èarried iii tikis tfniiappy country;

Mdîlig myself^ thierefore, by thé experience of my hosts, I kept close in the convent, where I spent an agreeable day in Irteadng conversation. I received a visit from M. OontessinI who aspired to the vice-consulship of Jaflk, and ftom Messrs* Damiehs, senior and jumor, Frenchmen by birth, and fonnerly b the Se^ice of D}ezKar at St. John d^Acre. They jNflated to me soine cùrioiis facts relative to the recent events m Syrian they spolte of the rénovm Wliich the emperor and our anus havsr left behind in the deseft Men are still move feetingly alive to aie glory of their Country, When away from that country, than linâer the paternal roof; and we have seen Frendr emigrants daiiAiiig their share of victories which seemed likely to doom them to everlasting exilé.*

I spent five days at Jaità on my return from Jénisalem, and examined it most minutely. I ou^t, therefore, to defer my ob^ servations all that period, tmt that I may not derange the ordet of my 'itoiite I shall introduce them in this plaoe : besides whieh^ it is probable, that, after the description of the sacred plae^, the reader would not take any grei^ interest in that of Jaffa.

Jaffii, was formerly called Joppa, which according to Adricbo- alius, signifies beautiful or agreeable. D'AnvJlle derives the pre«  ient name froni the primitive form of Joppa, which is Japho.f I • shall obseiire, that in the land of the Hebrews there Was another city of the name of Jaffa, which was taken by the Romans : this aame perhaps was afterwards transferred to Joppa. Adeording to some commentators, and Pliny himself, the origiii of this city b of very high antiquity, Joppa having lieen built before the de^ iage. It is sud, that at Joppa Noah went into the ark. -After the . ilood had subsided, the patriarch gave to Shekn, his eldest son, all tiie lands dependent on the city, founded by his third son Japhet^ Lastly according to the traditions of the coiintiyj Jopptt eontain» the sepulchre of the second father of mankind.

  • The same sentiment is aaid to have been expressed hf James ÎI. of So^^

Und, after the loss of his kingdom, on oeeasitm of the battle of lia Hogoe,

t lo Syria, 1 know, the name of this town is pranoanced Yàfa^ and it is w written hj Volney ; bat I am not acquainted with Arabic, and beside^I have dp •nthority to correct the orthography of D'Anville, anH so many other le«m'éi< writers. Kk \^

tdê TKAVBI.B JN eWSCEy t^IOMViyi:,

Aecording to Pococke, Shaw, aftd paibaps d'ÂnviSie; Aqi^à Mli fo the 8hare of Ephraim, aod f^th Ramla and I^rMâ» loraiedtlie ircstemptrt of that tHbe : but «ther anthon, and» uiiOQg Ui» aait AdrichoHiîiift» Boger» &e. place Joppa in tbe tribe of Dan. Die Greeks extended to tbece Bhoraa tbe evipire of faUe^ and a^iefted that Jbppa denvied its name iVom a daaf^t of iBohifu Tfa^ placed in the neighboiniood of this city tbe adyentoae of Penem and Andromeda. Scauros, aceovding to. Pliny» timniporied ham Joppa io Rome the bonea of the* sea monster sent i^ N^tme. Fansanias aasnves us, that near Joppa^ was to be seen a foun- tain, where Peraeus washed off the blood mth whieb the mooslsr had covei^'him : and from thb cM^nmstanee the water e^er a^ terwards ri^mained of a red colonr. Finally, St. Jerome mMas» that in his time tiie roek and the ring to which Andromeda was bound, stitl continued to be pointed ont at Joppa.

It was at Joppa that the fteeta of Hiram, laded withcedfr lor the tensile, landed their cargoes ; and here the prophet Jonah em- barked when he fled before thefooe of the Lord. Joppa feH fi«s times into tfae> hands of the-Sgyptians, the Assyrians, and other nations, ^rho made war open the jews, preWbosiy to the arrira! ' of the Romans in Aria. It became one of the eleven toparohies ' where the idol Asoarlen was adored* Jadaa Maccabeus burned ' the town, whose inhabitants had slaughtered two hundred Jews» - 8t. Peter here raised Tiibitha from the dead, and receiTed the men ' sent fhmi Cesarea in the house of Slmonlbe tanner. At the | commencement of the troubles of Judea, Joppa was destroyed by Gesâus. The walls haying- been rebmit by pirates, Vespasian again sacked it, and placed a garrison in the dtadel. We have seen that Joppa existed about two centuries posterior- ' to these events, in the time of St. Jerome, who calls it Ji^ho. It passed, with all Syria, tinder the yoke of the Saracens; and again makes its appearance in the historians of the crusades. l%e nnonymous writer who begins the colleclion intituled Gesfa Dei' per Francos^ relates that, when the anny of the crusaders was Mnder the walls of Jérusalem, Godfrey of BouiUon sent Raimond" Pilet, Achard de Mommellou, and William de Babran,. to guard the Genoese and Piean vf s^els, which had arrived in ihp port of Jrififk. Benjamin of Tudela gpeaks of it, about the same periodi by the nai7i(^ of Gapha; ffuinqiie ab kmc lends est Oapha olha

JÊapko^ mISs Joppe iikbij admare niu ; iM unm ionium Judmw^ 4àftie 'kmtR iHfieiandœ artifkx tsL Saladin retook Jaffa from the -cauadevs; and IttehardOœurde lien recoreredlt from Sala^Ba. !ille SaraoenB once more gskieil possesion of the town, and put iSàéd ObriseUns lo <iie swoid :• but at the period ef the finrtexpëdl- "tiohof Bt. LoiH to the east^ it was not in the power of the Infi* Ms^' being then helid by ISautier de Bnenne^ who assumed the HAe of eoimt of Japhe» according to the orthography of the Sire .4e JouiTiHe»

^'^ Now when the conntof Japhe4Hcw that the king was irrivedy lie ael his cttitle of Japheinorder^ and put it into such condi&m •tel it resemhted a well fortified town. For on .the battlements ^»eaeh side of iiis eastie there were at least frre hundred men, «aeii paoTided-wiffa a boekl^ and a pennon to his arms, which was a very gooAly si^ to behoid: for his arms, were of pure

goId, and the eross Tory richly made. We4ook up our quarters in

flhe fieids round about this casâe of Japhe, which was situated cm la. level with the sea, and in an island. And the king commended a town to be begun4o be biât aH around the castle^ and enclosed 4rith a wail, from one of the seas to the other."

It was at Jaflk that tiie eonsort of St Louis was deliyered of a "dftu^ter blamed Blanche, and hi the sume town St Louis, re- «eifced -information of his motiœr's death. Hefellvupon his kneeft, ^aad ««ftaimed: ^I thuik ihee, O my God! for having spared Madame, my dear mother, tome so long as it was pleasing to thee, and fbt having now^ in thy good pleasure, taken her to thyself. i loived her, it is tmc^ above all creatures in the world ; but since Ibou hasttatke» her irom me» blessed be thy name to all eternity {

Jaffs, while under the dominioa of the Chri8tiatt0,.had a bishop, {mtlcagan to ^e sea of Cœsarea. When the knighis were com- feHed to take their final leave of tiie Holy Land, Jaffa,- together wiâi éSk Palestine, fell under the yoke of the sultans of Egypt, and afterwards under ^le domiidon of the Turks.

From that period to the present time, we find mention made eif Joppa or Jafih in aU the travels to Jerusalem ; but the town^ such as we see it at present, is not nmch more than aeaitury old, since IfoneoiiyB, who vi^ed Mes6ne m 1647, found nothing at Jaffh but a castle and three caverns scooped out of the rock. Theve- aot adds, that the monks of the Holy Land erected wooden hut?

24ê TAAV£L8 IN Gft££àlS, FALB9T1KE,

iMifore the caveras, but that they were Ibi^eed'to démôUsh Iheiii hy the Turks. Thid cireomstaiice expiftiss a passage îb tbe tear* rative of a Yenetian friar, who relates, that on the aitiTal of Éhe pilgrixnB at Jafia, they were shut up in a cavern. Breve, Opdam^ Dèshayes, Nicole le Uuen, Bartlieiemi de Salignac,- Duloiri Zttr allart, Father Roger, and Pietro de la Yaliée, are unanhBOW re- specting the insignificance and poverty of Jaffa.

Whatever concerns modem Jaffa, the history of the eiegcs which it has sustained during the wars of Daher, and All Bey, a« well as other particulars rektSve to the excell^ice of its frftits, the beauty of its gardens kc. may be found in Volney* I shall subjoin a few observations.

Independently of the two fountains of Jaffa mentioned by tm* Tellers, you meet with fresh water along the sea-coaet on the wa^ towards Gaza. Nothing more is necessary than to scoiop a bole with your hand in the sands to make fresh water spi^ng up even on the very brink of the sea. I have myself tried this curious experiment with M. Contesaini, from the norlbem angle of the towji to the habitation of a santon» which is seen at some distance on the coast

Jaffa, which sustained so mnch damage in DiAier's wars has been a great sufferer by more recent events. The Frenoh com^ manded by the emperor, took it by assault in i79{;. After the return of our troops to Egypt, thc'Englidi in conjunction with' the forces of the Grand Sigaor, erected a bastion at the soulheftst angle of the town. Abou Marra, a favourite of the grand viair's was appointed governor of the place, Djeesar, pacha of Acre«  being an enemy to the vizir, laid siege to* Jaffa, on the departure of the Ottoman army. Abou Marra valiantly defended himaetf for nine nafontbs, and then found means to escape by sea : ibe Jfukis seen' to the east of the town are some of the effects of this siege. After Djezzar's death, Abou Marra was appointed pacha of Jidda» on the Red Sea. This new pacha proceeded throu^ Palestine ; but by one of those revolts $o common in Turkey, he stopped at Jaffa, and refused to repair to his pachalik. The pacha of Acre, Suleiman Pacha, the second in succession to Djes^zar,* received «orders to attack the rebel, and Jaffa was once more besieged* Af-

  • Tb« name of Djezzar's immediate nocessor was Ismael Pacha, -who wjtis

Itfwwsiecl of the chief «ntbotitjr |tt the time of CJcBzar^s deatK



Car a very feeble reàstiuice, Âbou Marra fled to refuge to Mahom- et Pa^haAden^^wbo had been raised to the pachalik of Damascus.

I hope 1 ahall be for^ven for the dryness of these details, on, 4[pcount of (he importance which Jafita formerly possessed, as well aa that whieh it has recently acquh'ed.

I waited with impatience for the» moment of my departure lor Jerusalem^ On the 3d of October, at four in the afternoon, my servants put on goat-skin dresses made in Upper Egypt, such as are eomipaonly worn by the bedouins. I put on the same kind of dress oyer my clothes, and we mounted our horses, which Were of very small sise. Pads served us for saddles, and cord^^ ^tead of stirrups. The president of the convent rode at our liead fike a cpmmon friar; one Arab, almost naked accompanied m for a guide, and we were followed by another who drove be- lore him an aas that carried our baggage. We went oiit at the baek of the convent, and proceeded among the ruins of houses destroyed in the late siege, to the south gate of the town. The rgad at first led among ^irdens, which must formerly have been «farming. Father Neret and M. de Volney speak of them in high terms. These gardens have been laid waste by the difier pent parties that have contended for the ruins of Jaffa; but there sure still left some pomegrante, Pharaoh's fig, and lemon-trees, a few palms, nopal bushes, and apple-trees, which are also culti* yated in the neighboyrbood of Gaza, and even at the convent of Mount Sinai.

We advanced into the plain of Sharon, the beauty of which is ^bigfa]^ praiaed in^scripture. In the month of April, .1713, when làtiier Neret travelled through this plain, it was covered with toKps. '^ The variety of their cotours," says he, "forms a beau- tiful parterre." The flowers which, in spring, adorn this cele- bniited plain,, are the white and red rose, th^ narcissu?, the whitr and orange lily, the carnation, and a highly fragrant species of everlasting flower. The plwa stretches along the coast from Gaza in the south, to Mount Carmel on the north. To the east It is bounded by the mpuntains of Judea and Samaria. The .^rholeof it là not upon the same level: it consists of four plat- Ibrms, separated from each other by a wall of naked stones. The »oiI is a very fine sand, white and red, and though intermixed yriU) gravel, appears extremely fertile. Thanks, however, to

^42 m%kvzhB HI -osnes, ^àXMsvumf

Màhometa]! jAespotiâtD, ilm ioil exybttd op eveiy ttttle boIMi| bat tiiietlee, dry and withered grass, iBterpfietBed witli 9tM3Bitf plantations of eottob and patebes of doura, bartejr, and "Wlieat Here and there appear a fbw Tilla^i, inTAriably in iwBa,.^«nd flome clumps of oliro-trees and sjcamored. About half wajf be»

  • tvreen Rama and Jaffa yon écorne to a well, meniiened t^ ail tra-

vellers ; the ahbè Mariti gives a history of it that he may eajoy the pleasure of contrasting tJte ufility of « Turidsh aaifton wkb the Qselessaess of a Christian monk. Near this well you obaerv* a wood of ofive-trees planted in the quincunx form, and the -ori- ^n of which is ascribed by tradition to the time of Oddfrey of BoulUott. From this spot yon perceive Rama or Ramie in a charming situation, at (he extremity of one of the platfoitna or stages of the plain* Before we reached it, we went oat c€ th«^ road to look at a eistem, a work of Conslantine's inother.* Ton i;o down i6 it by twenfy-aeven steps ; it is thhrty^ithree feet in length and ttiirty broad ; is composed of twenty^fonr arches, and receives the rain water by twenty-four apertures. We tiience proceeded through a for^ of nopals to the tower of the Forty Slartyrs, now the minaret of a forsaken mosque, formerly the steeple of a monastery, of which some fine ruins are still remain-^ ing. These ruins (k^nsist of a kind g( porticos, vety mnch re- sembUng those of Mieeenas's stables at Tibur; they are foil of wild fig-trees. It is said, that in this place Joseph, the Virgin, and the Child^ halted dnring their flight into Egypt ; this would certainly be a charming spot to tafce for the scene of the repose of the Holy Family ; and tiie geiilps of Claude Lorrain seems to have intuitively divined this landscape, to judge from his admi- nible picture in the Dona palace at Rome.

Above the gate of die tower is an Arabic Inscription, copied by Votney : and close ia it is a mirai^ulous antiquity described by JHuratori.

Having inspected fliese ruins, we passed very near to a de- serted mill, mentioned by Vdney as the only one he saw in Syria ;

  • Aceordm|[ to the tnditba of the eoaatt^, St Helena ereeted aU the stnie^

lures in Palestine : a notioa twUoIIj ineompatible wiA the great age of that pria- o.èS8 when she went on pilgnmsge to the Holy Land. It is peverthdess eertaio, from the «nkea testimoéy oTEoseliitts, 81 Jeromey and «ft the «edaMMtnalfrii- tf>nans, ibatJlél^Qa poverTnUx eontiihuted to the rebiiilâing of the nctcd pten


al pwijit there ue se?erftl othsc». We «]ig^daCB«m, «sd tr«  rived at thfiL coDT«iil of tii^ ixicknfcv oC Uie HoJIf tapd. TbU convent iMuideen i^un^red five yean befone, and I yr^ abown Uie tgntve •Confrof the Am» wha perished on tfaidoecaakin.. Thefrateoû^ i^ had jii9t obtained peirmaeion, with veiy great difiicoltj, to du the OMtst urgent repairs required by their monastery.

Favourable tidmgs awaited me at Rama: I there U}^nû a diog«  man beionging to tbe ccmvent of Jerusalem, whom the^ sqperior had aent to meet me. The Arab ohief, whom the lathers had i^- prized of my coming, and who was to be my escort, was hover» ing at some dbtanee, for the aga of Ram» permits nonei of the BedouBBs to enter the town. The moat powerful tribe m the mountains ef Jodea resides at the village of Jeremiah : these peo* pie aUow the passage of travellers to Jérusalem, or obstruct it at pleasure*- The sheik of the tribe was lately dead. He had left his son Utraan under the guardianship of his nncle, Abou Gosh ; the latter had two. brothers, Bjiaber and Ibrahim HabdelRou- man, who accompanied me on my .return.

It had been concerted that I diould set out m the middle of the night. As it was not yet dark, we supped on the terrace» that form the roof of the convent The monasteries of the Holy Land look like low heavy fortresses, and in na reqieci resemble Uie convents of Eun^e : the houses of Rama, plaster huts croiwnr ed with a small dome^ similar to that of a mosque or the tomb of a santon, are embosomed among oUve, fig, and pomegranate^^ trees, and surrounded mih large nopals which shoot up into sin- IMlar shapes, and confusedly pUe their tufts of prickly pallets ouie upon another. This mingled group of trees and houses is over* topped by the finest palm-trees in Idumea. There was one m particular, in the garden of the convent which I could not soflGi- eiently admire : it rose in a perpendicular column to the height of above thirty feet, and then gracefiilly expanded its bending branches, under which the half-ripe .dates hm^ fike crystals o^ corah

Rama is the ancient Arimathea, the birth-place of that right- eous man who had the glory to bury our Saviour. It was at Lod, lydda, or Diospolis, that St Peter performed the ndraculous «um of the man aflfieted with palsy. As to what concerns Ra-

um,' ^iisid«r«d in a commercial point of view» the reader k referred to Tott's Memoirs, and Volnej's Trarek.

We left Rama in the middle of the night of the 4th of Octo* ber. The president c<mdacted ns along bjr-roads to the place where Abon Goah was waiting for ns, and then returned to his convent. Our company consisted of the Arab chief, the drog* man from Jerusalem, my two servants, and the Bedouin of Jaffa, who drove the ass that carried oar baggage. We still retained the dress and appearance of poor Latin pilgrims» bat carried our arms under our clothes.

After a ride of an hùur over uneven ground, we came to some mean houses on the top of a rocky eminence. We ascended one of the stages of the plain, and in another hour, arrived at the first undulation of the mountains of Judea. We turned by a rugged ravine round a detached and barren hill. At the summit of thk eminence we could just (fiscem a village in ruins, and the scat- t6red stones of a forsaken cemetery. It is called Latroun, or the Thief's Village, having been the birth-place of the criminal who repented on the cross, and in whose behalf Christ performed his last act of mercy. Three miles farther, we entered the moun- tains. We followed the dry bed of a torrent : the waning moon, whose orb was dimimshed one half, scarcely lighted our steps along the channel : and the wild boars set up around tisa cry sin- gulariy savage. From the desolation of these parts, I was now enabled to conceive w^ Jephtha's daughter went to weep on the mountains of Judea, and why the prophets repaired to the high places to pour forth their lamentations. At day-break we found ourselves amidst a labrynth of mountains of a conical figure, nearly alike, and connected with e^ch other at their feet. The rock composing the base of these mountains was bare. Its strata qr parallel beds were ranged like the seats of a Roman amphithea- tre, or like the walls in the form of flights of steps which support the vineyards in the vailles of Savoy.* In every redent of the rock grew clumps of dwarf oaks, box, and rose-laurels. From the bottom of the ravines olive-trees reared their heads; and sometimes these trees formed continued woods on the sides of the mountains. We heard the cries of various birds, especial^^ of jays. On reaching the most elevated summiit of this chain,

• In Jadea they were formerly sopportcd ia the same Bi«imer.


W oreriooked behind us, to the eouth and west, the plain of Sha- ron as far as Jaffa, and the horizon of the sea to Gaza; before tis, to the north and east, opened the valley of St. Jeremiah, and in the same direction, on the top of a rock, appeared in the dis- tance of an ancient fortress called the Castle of the Maccabees. It is conjectured that the author of the Lamentations came into the world in the village which has retained his name amidst these mountains:* sol much is certain, that the melancholy of tliese parts seems to pervade the compositions of the prophet of sorrows.

On approaching St. Jeremiah, however, I was somewhat cheer- ed l>y an unexpected sight. Herds of goats with pendant ears, sheep wifli large tails, and asses which remind you, by their beau- ty, of the onagra of scripture, issued from the village at the dawn of day. Arab women were hanging grapes to (dry in the vine- yards; others with their faces veiled, carried pitchers of water oa their heads like the daughters of Midian. With the first beams of light, the smoke of the hamlet ascended in a white vapour ; confused voices, songs; shouts of joy met the ear. This scene formed a pleasing contrast with the desolation of the place and the recollections of the night.

Our Arab chief h&d received before-hand the sum required of travellers by the tribe, and we passed without molestation. All at once I was struck with these words ; distinctly pronounced in French : En avant ! marche ! " Forward ! march I" I turned my head and perceived a troop of young Arabs, stark naked, per- forming their exercise with palm sticks. Some recollection or other of my early life continually haunts me ; my heart throbs at the mention, of a French soldier; but to see young Bedouins in the mountains of Judea, imitating our military exercises and pre- serving the remembrance of our valour; to hear them pronounce what may be termed the watchwords of our armies, would have been sufficient to make an impression on a man less tenacious than myself of the glory of my eountr}% I was not so much alarmed as Crusoe when he heard the first words uttered by his parrot, but I was not leas delighted than that renowned traveller. 1 gave a few mcdines to the little battalion, repeatm^^ the words :

  • This populftp tradition is not inoonaiitent vith «ritîcMin.

L 1

^M THATtitS Iir dRBtCE, PlLtBTlNKy

"" Forward I march S" and that I might oaoit nothbig, I tfiUf

  • " 'Tis the will of God ! 'tis the wili^of God T' like the eoBupa»

ion» of Godfrey and St Louis.

From the valley of Jeremiah we descended into that of Tt^ pentine, which h deeper and narrower than the former. Bore are to be seen some vineyarda and a lew patches of donra. We* àrrÎTed at the brook where the youthliil David picked up th«  five stones with one of which he slew the gigantic (}oliath. We crossed this stream by a stone bridge, the only one yon meet with in these deserts: a small quantity of stagnant water still occupied the channel. Close to it, on the left, below a Tinage called Kaloni, I remarked among the modem ruins, the^ remains 'of an ancient fabric. Mariti ascribes this structure to some monks or other. For an HaUan traveller the error is a gross one. If the architecture of this edifice be not Hebrew,' It is cartamly Roman ; the junctures, the figures, and the bidk of the stones leare no doubt on this subject.

Having crossed the stream you perceive the village of Keriet •Lefta oa the bank of another dry channel, which resembfes a dusty high road. El Bire appears in the distance, on the smnniH of a lofty hill, on the way to Nablons, Nabolos, or Nabolosa, the 8hechem of the kingdom of Israel and the Neapolis of the He- rods; We pursued our course through a desert where wild fig- trees, thinly scattered, waved their embrowned léates in the «outbem breeze. The ground which had hitherto exhibited some verdure, now became bifre ; the sides of tfie mountains, expand- ing themselves, assumed at once an appearance of greater gran- deur and sterility. Presently all vegetation ceased; even the Tery mosses disappeared. The confused amphitheatre of the mountain» was tinged with a red and vivid colour. In this dreary region we kept ascending for an hour to gam an elevated Ml which we saw before us; after which we proceeded for an* other hour across a naked plain bestrewed with loose stones. All at once, at the extremity of this plain I perceived a line of Gothic walls, flanked with square towers, and the tops of a few buildihgft peeping above them. At the foot of this wall appeared a camp of Turkish horse, with all the accompanlmente of oriental pomp*


CI CoA ! '< Hie Holy City !" exclaimed the guide, and away he weat at futt gallop « 

I can BOW account for the surprise expressed by the crusaders and pilgrims, at the first sight of Jerusalem, according to the re- ports of historians and travellers. I can affirm, that whoever, lias, like me, had the patience to read near two hundred modem accounts of the Holy Land, the Rabbinical compilations and the fiassages in the ancients relative to Judea, still knows nothing at aU about it I paused with my eyes fixed on Jerusalem, measur* ing the beigbt of its walls, reviewing at once all the recollée- iiena of Jiistory from Abraham to Godfrey of BouUlon, reflect- ing on the total change accomplished in the world by the mission 4il the Son of Man, and in vain seeking that Temple, not one •tone of which is Jeft upon another. Were I to live a thousand years, never should I forget that desert which yet seems to be pervaded by the greatness of Jehovah and the terrors of death.

The cries of the drogman, who told me that is was necessaiy for us to keep close together, as we were just at the entrance of ihe camp, roused me from the reverie into which the sight of the Holy City had plunged me. We passed among the tents covered with black lamb-skins: a few, among others, that of the pacha, were formed of striped clothe The horses saddled and bridled, were fastened to stakes. 1 was surprised to see four pieces of horse-artillery ; they were well mounted, and the car- riages appeared to be of English construction* Our mean equip- l^e and pilgrim's dress, excited the laughter of the troops. The pacha was coming out of Jerusalem, as we drew up to the gate of the city* I was obliged to take off, as quickly as possible, my handkerchief, which I had tied over my hat to keep off the sun, lest I should draw upon myself a similar aSront to that wliich poor Joseph incurred at Tripolissa.

We entered Jerusalem by the pOgrims' gate, near which stands the tower of David, better known by the appellation of the f isttBs' Tower. We pud the tribute, and followed the street that opened before us; then turning to the left between a kind of pri-

  • Abou Gosh, though a wa^tet of the Grand Signor, was apprehensive lest

he should be maltreated and hastinadoed hj the paicha of Damaicus, vhm camp we Tere ia sight of.


sons of plaster, denominated houses, we arrived, at iwentj-tff<f minutes past twelve, at the convent of the Latin fathers: I found it m the possession of Abdallah's soldiers, who appropriated to ■ themselves whatever they thou^t fit

Those only who have been in the same ûtuation as the iatfaers of the Holy Land, can form a conception of the pleasure which they received from my arrival. They thought themselves saved by the presence of one single Frenchman. I delivered a letter from general Sebastiani, to father Bonaventura diNola, the supe- rior of the convent. " Sir," said he, " it is Providence that has brought you hither. You have travelling firmans. Permit ua to send them to the pacha; he will thence find that a Frenchman has arrived at the convent ; he will believe that we are under tfae special protection of the emperor. Last year he forced us to pity sixty thousand piastres ; according to the regular custom we ow^ him but four thousand, and that merely under the denomination of a present. He wishes to extort from us the same sum this year, and thrâctens to proceed to the last extremity if we refuse to comply with his demands. We shall be obliged to sell th^ eon* eecrated plate, for during the last four years we have received OQ^ alms from Europe : if this should continue, we shall be forced to. quit the Holy Land, and leave the tomb of Christ in the hands of Mahometans.

I tliought myself extremely fortunate to have it in my power to render this small service to the superior, I requested, howev- er, tîiât he would permit me to make an excursion to the Jordan» before he sent the firmaqs ; that the difficulties of a journey, which is always attended with danger, might not be farther in* creased : for Abdallah might have caused me to be assassinated lt).v the way, and then have thrown the blame upon the Arabs.

Father Clement Peres, procurator general of the convent, a man of extensive information, cultivated understanding, and pleas- ing manners, conducted me to the state chamber (of the pilgrims. My bagçage was here deposited, and Ï prepared to leave Jerusi^ Icm, a few hours after I had entered the city. I had; however, more occasion for repose than to battle with tlie Arabs of the dead sea. I had long been traversing the land and the sea on my way to the holy places; and no sooner had I reached the wished for ^oal; than I quitted it again. But I considered this sacrifice to bç


ine fo men who are themselves making a perpetual sacrifice of their property and their lives. I might, moreover, have recon- ciled the interest of the fathers, with my own safety, by relin- quishing my design of visiting the Jordan ; and it only depended on myself to set bounds to my curiosity.

While I was waiting for the moment of departure, the religious iiegan to sing in the church of the monastery. I inquired the rea- son of this singing; and was informed, that they were celebrating the'festival of the patron of their order. I then recollected that it was the 4th of October, St Francis-s day, and the anniversary of my birth. I hastened to the church, and offered up my prayers for the felicity of her, who on this day had brought me into the world. I deem it a happiness that my first prayer at Jerusalem was not for myself. I contemplated with respect those religious singing praises to the Lord, within three hundred paces of the tomb of Christ ; I was deeply affected at the sight of the feeble but invincible band which has continued the only guard of the Holy Sepulchre since it was abandoned by kings.

The superior sent for a Turk named Ali Aga, to conduct me to Bethlehem. He was the son of an aga of Rama, who lost his head under the tyranny of Djezzar. Ali was bom at Jericho, at present Rihha, and called himself the governor of that village. He was intelligent and courageous : and I had every reason to be satisfied with him. The first thing he did was to make my ser- vant and myself relinquish our Arabian attire, and resume the French dress, that dress, once so despised by .the orientals, noyr inspires respect and fear ; French valour has regained the renown which it formerly acquired in this country. It was French che- valiers who established the kingdom of Jerusalem, as it was the soldiers of France tha^ gathered the last palms in Idumea. The Turks point out to you at one and the same time, Baldwin's tow- er and the emperor's camp ; and at Calvary you find the sword of Gk)dfrey of Bouillon, which, in its ancient sheath, seems still to guard the Sacred Sepulchre.

At five o'clock in the evening, three good horses were brought^ and we were joined by Michael, drogman to the convent : Ali put iiimself at our head, and we set out for Bethlehem, where we^ were to sleep, and to take forward an escort of six Arabs. I had read that the superior of St. Saviour's is the only Frank who ejo^-


jays (he privilege of riding on horseback at Jerasalem, and I ww Bomewhat surprised to find myself galloping on an Arabian steed; bat I have since learned that any traveller may do the same for his money. We left Jerusalem by the Damascus gate, then tam- ing to the left, and crossing the ravines at the foot of Mount Siotf, we ascended a mountain, and found at the top of it a plain over which we proceeded for an hour. We left Jerusalem to the north, behind us ; on the west, we had the mountains of Judea, and on file east, beyond the Red Sea, those of Arabia. We passed the convent of St Elijah. The spot where that prophet rested on bis way to Jerusalen)> is sure to be pointed out to yon, under aii olive-tree that stands upon a rock by the side of the road. A league farther on we entered the plain of Rama, where you meet with Rachel's tomb. It is a square edifice, surmounted with a email dome : it enjoys the privileges of a mosque, for the Turk* as well as the Arabs, honour the families of the patriarchs. The tra(fitions of the Christians agree in placing RachePs sepulchre on this spot; historical criticism favours this opinion; but in spite of Thevenot, Monconys, Roger, and many others,! cannot admit what is now denominated Rachel's tpmhi to be an antique monn- ment : it is evidently a Turkish edifice, erected in memory of a santon*.

We perceived in the mountains, for nig^t had come on, the lights of the village of Rama. Profound silence reigned «nound US. It was doubtless in such a night as this that Rachel's voice /suddenly struck the ear : " a voice was heard in Rama, lamenta- tion and bitter weeping ; Rachel weeping for her cluldren, refused to be comforted, because they were not" Here the mothers of Astyanax and Euryalus are outdone ; Homer and Yirgil must yield the palm of pathos to Jeremiah.

We arrived by a narrow and rugged road at Bethlehem. We knocked at the door of the convent; its inhabitants were thrown into some alarm, because our visit was unexpected, and All's tur- ban at first excited terror ; but matters were soon explmned to their satisfactioii.

Bethlehem received its name, which sigqifies the House ^ Bready from Abraham ; and was sumamed Ephrata, the FruitM, after Caleb's wife, to distinguish it from another Bethlehem, hi tl|e trib^ of Zebulupt It belcmged to tl^e tribe of Judab, and «Iso

'WiOt hj tbe tame of the City of David, that monarch hayiag Ihera been bora, and tended sheep in his childhood* Abijah, the •evenUi judge of Israel, Etimelech, Obed, Jesse, and Boaz, were JBke David, natives of Bethlehem, and here must be placed the acene of the admirable eclogue of Ruth. St. Matthias, the apos- tle, also received life in the same town where the Messiah came into the world* ^^

The first Ghiistiana built an oratoiy over the manger of our Saviour. Adrian ordered it to be demolished, and a statue of Adonia erected in its stead. St Helena destroyed the idol, and built a church on th^ same spot The originid edifice is now blend- Ad with the varibQs additions made by the Christian princes. * St j€(;rome, as .every reader knows, retired to the solitude of Bethle* li€^. Conquered by the Crusaders, Bethlehem returned with Ja- JTUsalem under the yoke of the Infidels ; but it has always been the object of the veneration of the pilgrims. Pious monks, de^ voting themselves to perpetual martyrdom, have been its goar- diana for seven centuries. With respect to modern Betiilehëm«  Its aoil, productions, and inhabitants, the reader is referred to the work of Yoiney. I have not, however, remaiiced in the vale of Bethlehem the fertility which is ascribed to it : under the Tuzldsh government, to be sure, the most productive aoil, fdll, in a few years, be transformed into a desert

Ai four in the morning of the 5th of October, I commenced any anrvey <^ the monuments of Bethlehem. Though these stroc* tares have frequently been described, yet the subject b in itself Jo interesting that I cannot Ibrbear entering into some particulara* The convent of Bethlehem is connected with the church by «  cout enclosed with lofi^ walls. We crossed this court, and wem admitted by a small side door into the churciL The edifice is ^i^rtainly of high antiquity, and though often destroyed and as Mteu repaired, it still retains marks of its Grecian origin. It is Inilt in the form of a cross. The long nave, or if you please, the loot of the cross, is adorned with forty-eight columns of the Co- rinthian order, in four rows. These columns are two feet six inches in dianieter at the base, and df^teen feet high, including the base \aad capitaL As the roof of this nave is wanting, the columns aapport nothing but a frieze of wood, which occupies tlie place of the architrave and of the whole entablature. Open timber-woik


rests upon the walk, and rises into the form of a dome, to 8u(>pori the roof that no longer exists, or that perhaps was never finished. The wood-work b said to be of cedar, but this is a mistake. The windows are large, and were formerly adorned with Mosaic paint- ings, and passages from the bible in Greek and Latin characters, the traces of which are yet visible. Most of these inscriptions are given by Quaresmius. The abbé Miriti notices with some ac- rimony, a mistake of that letâmed friar in one of the dates : a per- son of the greatest abilities is fiable to error, but he Who blaawns it without delicacy or politeness, affords a much stronger proof of his vanity than of his knowledge.

The remains of the Mosaics to be seen here and there, and some paintings on wood, a^e interesting to the history of tJie arts ; they in general exhibit figures in full face, upright, stiff, without motion, and without shadows ; but their effect is majestic, and their character dignified and austere.

The Christian sect of the Arminians is in possession of the i^ave which I have just described. This nave is separated from the three other branches of the cross by a wall, so that the unity of the edifice is destroyed. When you have passed this wall, you find yourself opposite to the sanctuar^^ or the choir, which occupies the top of the cross^ This choir is raised two steps above the nave. Here is seen an altar dedicated to the Wise Men* of the East. On the pavement at the foot of tliis altar, you observe a marble star, which corresponds, as tradition asserts, with the point of the heavens where the miraculous star that conducted the three kings became 4Aationary. So much is certain, that the spot where the Saviour of the world was born, is exactly underneath this marble star in the subterraneous church of the manger, of which I shall presently have occasion to speak. The Greeks occupy the choir of the Ma^, as well as the two other naves formed by the transom of the cross. These last are empty, and without altars.

Two spiral staircases, each composed of fifteen steps, open on the sides of the outer ctiurch, and conduct to the subterraneous church situated beneath the choir. This is the eter-to-be revered place of the nativity of our Saviour. Before I entered it, the su*- perior put a taper into my hand, and repeated a brief exhortation. This sacred crypt is irregular, because it occupies the irregular site cf the stable and the manger. It is thirty «even feet six inches



Said to have been the house of Joseph and Mary.


long, efeiren fe^t three incheB broad, and nice feet i|i height» It is hei^n out of the rock ; the sides of the rock are faced tvith beau* tiful marble, and the floor is of the same materia]. These em- bellishiheiits are ascribed to St. Helena. The church receives né light from without, and is illumined with thirty-two lamps sent by different princes of Christendom. At the farther extremity of this crypt, on the east side, is the spot where the Virgin brought forth the Redeemer of mankind. This spot is marked by a white mar* ble, incrusted with Jasper, and surrounded by a circle of silver^ having rays resembling those with which the sun is represented: Around it are inscribed these words :


A marble table, which serves for an altar, rests against the sidp of the rock, and st^uids over the place where the Messiah came into the world. This altar is lighted by three lamps, the hand* eomest of which was given by Louis ^III.

At the distance of seven paces towards the south, after you have passed the fo<>t of one of the staircases leading to the upper cbttfch, you find the Manger* You go down to it by two steps^ for it is not upon a level with the rest of the ciypt It is a lowre- 4sess he^n out of the rock. A block of white marble, raised about .a foot above the floor, and hollowed in the form of a manger, in- dicates the very spot where the Sovereign of Heaven was laie upon straw.

Two paces forther, opposite to the manger^ stands an altar^ n^dch occupies the place where Mary sat when she presented the .Child of Sorrows to the adoration of the Magi.

Nothing can be more pleasing, or better calculated to excite .sentiments of devotion, than this subterraneous church. It is adorned with pictures of the Italian and Spanish schools. These pictures represent the mysteries of the place, the Virgin and Child, after Raphael^ the Annunciation, the Adoration of the Wise Man, the coming of the Shepherds, and all those miracles of min- gled grandeur and innocence. The usual ornaments of the man- ger are of blue satin embroidered with silver. Incense is con- tinually smoking before the cradle of the Saviour. I have hear4 an organ, touched l^ no ordinary hand, play during maas, the

Mm <^


sweetest and most £eii(fer tunes of the best Italian com)>oser^. These conceKs charm the Christian Arab, who, leaving lad caïhélb to feed, repairs, like the shepherds of old, to Bethlehem, to adon? the King of Kings in his manger. I haVe seeii this inhabitant of the desert communicate at the altar of the ilïagi, with à fervouV; a piety, a derotion, unknown among the Christians of the wc'sfc ^* No place in the world,*' says father Neret, " excites more pfd- found devotion. The continuaf arrival of caravans from all tftfe' nations of Christendom ; the public prayei^ ;' the prostratloiirf ; nay, even the richness of the presents sent hither by fhe CKrtstfiiâ princes, altogether produce feelings in the soul which it i^ m licit «asier to conceive than to describe.'* ? *

It may be added^ that the effect of all this i& heightened by axr extraordinary contrast; for, on quitting the crypt, where yonbafc met x^lihtbe ridhes, the arts, the feKglon of«ivi!]2ed nations, 5^ou find yourself in a profound solitude, amidst wretched Arab hul^r, among half naked savages and faithless* Mussulmans. This ptftc^ ^ is, nevertheless, the same where so many miracles were dfeplayt^' but this sacred land dares no longer express Its joy, and'lôeklr within its bosom flie reeollectlbn of its glory. '"" •

' Prom the grotto of the Natii^ty w« went to the snbterraneèuB chapel, where tradition place» Hie sepulchre of the innoc«rrts<^

    • Herod sent forth and slew sit the children that were 'm Bethftf"

hem, and in- all the coasts thereof, fronrtwo years old and iiïtdeK Then was fulfilled that which was spoken by Jermie the pt^phef» saying : In Rama was there a voice heard, &:c. ^

The chapel of the Innc^cents conducted us to the grotto of St- Jfcrome. Here you* find the sepulchre of this fatherof the cfattrcft, tiiat of Eusebius, and the tombai of St Paula, and St. Eustocbiiinr^ In this grotto St. Jerome spent the greater part of his life;- i*rom this retirement he beheld (he fall of the Roman «mpii^|- and here he received those fugitive patricians, who-, after they hftA possessed the palace» of the ear^, deenved themselves happy \a èhare the cell of a cénobite. The peace of tbe'saiht; and (iiè- ttoubles of the world produce a wonderful efibct in 4he letter»' èT fte learned commentator on the Scriptures. ■' -»

  • St Paula and St Eustochium were two illustrious Roniinl

ladies of the family of the Scipios and of the Gracchi. Thev ^ Unqoiahed the delights of Rome; to live and die at Betbtehen^


iaihei^ntetice of .the monastic virtues. Tbmr cpitftph, written by Jerome» is not a Tftiy good one, and ia so well knowo^ that I sjiali not insert it here,

- Jn the ocatoiy ofStJA^Uie i« a pictnre in which the head af that fiaint exiubit^ mtich the «ame air that has been given to it tiQ^ the pencil of Caracei and Domenicliino. Another painting contaiiia the figures of Paula and JEiistochium. These descen* daata.of Soipioare represented reposing in death in the «ame coffin. It was an affecting idea of the painter io make the two saints the {)eRfect inuige of each other. The daughter is to be diatioguished fi'om tiic mother ooljr by her jputh and hor white reil ; the one has been k>nger, the other more expeditioyus in pei^ forming the voyage of ii£e; andiioth have reached the port at the aame moment.

Among Jthe numerous pictures which ai:e to be seen at tlie saered stations» and which no ^traveller has described,^ I ima- gined that I sometunes discovered the mystic touch and inspired tone -«f Muvillos; it would he a singular circumstance if the manger or the tomb of oar Saviour should be found to posses» swne unknown maste»-|Hece of any of the great painters^

We returned Jo our convent, and 1 surveyed tlie country lro«a the top of a terrace. Bethlehem. is bmU on a hill which «nerlook» a long valley, rmining from ea^t ^o west The south* era Mil is covered with olive trees, thinly scattered, oyer a red- dish soil bestrewed with stones ; that on the north side has fig* trees on the same kind of soil. Here and there you perceive seme ruins; among others^ th» i:emai93 of ^ {tower called tlie tower of St Paula* I wei^ back into thç monastery, which owe» part of its wealth to Baldwin, king of Jerusalem and suceessor to€h>dfirey of Bouillon: it is an jeJlisolute fortress, and its walls are so thick that it would be capable of sustavning a siege against. the Turks.

The escort of Arabs having arrived, I prepared for my esp^ dilion tp tha Red Sea. Whilst breakfasting with the reU^ou? ^0 fonmed a ciiysle round pie, they informed me that there was in the convent a father who was a native of Frai^ce. Ife was seat for : he e»me witli downcast looks, both his hands in hi^ fillCfves, and walking with a solemn pace : he saluted me coldly"

^ yUtaD»9nt was^truck \rtth t^c befiv^ x>f a St. Jerome^

8Jf0 *QIÀVBL8 m bfc££CE| VALfiiTUqSy

«ml in few words. Never did I heM hi a foreign eôufiltry tte sound of a French voice without emotioil. I asked him Boilie queslioiis ; and he informed me that his name was fiàth^ 0iiH ment ; that he was a native of the vîcînjfy of Mayenne'; that being in a monastery in Bretagne, he had fceen transported witll a hundred other priests like himself to Spai^t, when» tie i been hospitably received in a cohvent of his order, and after- Wards sent by his superiors as a fhissioAary to the tioly LttBd^ 1 asked him if he should not Kke to revimt his country, an* if be had any Iettei*s to send to his ftmiily. His aifswer was, mmrû for word, as follows: — *^ Who is (here that still remembers «me in France ? How should I know whothef any of my btotiten and sisters be yet living? I hope to obtain, through tile' tarifa of my Saviour, the strength to die here wiihbiit tronlithif any body, and without thinking of a country which I hat« forgotMi." Father Clement was obliged to retire ; my preseMce hftd'vc-* vived in his lieart sentiments Which be was striving to tadÔMÈ* guish. Such is the destiny of man. A Frenehmas is, at thls'dhj', mourmiig tlie loss 6î his country oy^ the same shot'es, the renem- brance of which formerly inspired the most sohllilie of soBgtfCH^ the love of country. But those sons of Aaron^ who hang their harps on the willows of Babylon, did not all retam to tb» cU^ of David ; those daughters of Jndea, who on the banks of ^e |Ui| phrates exclaimed :

O 8lM>ret of Jordan ! plaiot bck>T'd of Ilcav'a ;

those companions of Esther, were not all destined to revisit Sm^ maus and Bethel : the remains of many of them were Iteft be- hind in the land of their captivity.

At ten in the morning, we mounted onr horses a|id sel^ out from Bethlehem. 8ix Bethlehemite Arabs on foot, amied'%}lli daggers and long matchlocks formed our escort : tliree ^'ttiem marched before and three behind. We had added to onrcimdiy an ass, which carried water and provisions. We par^ned the way that leads to the monastery of St. Saba, whence we weit afterwards to descend to the Dead Sea and to return hf the Jordan.

We first followed the valley of Bethlehem, Which, as f liave observed, stretches away to the cast. We passed a* rfdge of hills, where yo.u see, on the ri^ht^ a vine^i^rd recent^ fhmtffl, ^

MTf 1*« Am nXÊMéMXf 217

^«ftlM^tttiee too lare ia this eonntiy for me not to rematft it— ^W^ mofei at a grot called the Grotto of the Shepherds. The 4^ni» sttll ,gîire it the appellation of Dta el Natour, the Village , «C the Shepherds. It is said that Abraham here fed his flobks^ . ÊÊti that OB this spot the shepherds of Judea were informed hy . ihe angel of the birth of th^ Saviour.

- .iiThe piety of the fiûthfnl has transformed this grot into ^ •iuipcl. It must formerly have been highly decorated: I ôIh aevted. there, three capital! of the GoHntliian order, and two etfiets of the lonie. llie ditoovery of the latter is really a won- •;4ei^ £»r after the time of Helena we scarcely find any thing but Ike everlastmg Corinthiati^

> rOttieaving this grot add proceeding oast by soatii, we quitted

. 'tli^ red bills and leached it chain of whitish mountain^ Otu

(jfeftiees floiik in a soft,, chalky soil, formed from the remains of ft

•ceieareéQs rock. This tract was horribly bare, and not even a

• met of mw» was to be seen upon it Its only vegetable produo-

Imm», were here and there, a tuft of thorny plants, as pale as the

«MU that bore thera, and apparently covered with dust, like the

> ' iQMe hf the Mde of our high roads in summer.

' • r Ott tundag eiie of the ridges of these mountains we perceiv-^

ed two camps «f Bedonini : one composed of seven tents of black

. iattb-ftkins, fonûtig an oUong square, open at the east end ; the

.other cottsisting of twelve tents, pitched in a circle. A few

cMiiels amd iqares were feeding near them.

it was too late to recede ; ^e were obliged to put on the bes£

. ihce, and pass through the second camp. All was quiet at first,

'The Atehs touched the hands of the Bethlehemites and All Aga'a

beard; but seareely had we reached the last tents when a Be-

diMiin. stopped the ass that carried our provisions. The Bethle«'

' àeflûtes attempted to drive him away ; but tlic Amb called his

. Ill^ws to his assistance. Leaping upon their horses they seized

1 I Iheir anos imd surrounded us. Ali at lengUi contrived to ap^

• «1 pogse Ike .temult with money. These Bedouins required a tri^

. htitfa on passing : they probably looked upon the desert as a higli

.'load; and every person is master in his own possessions. Thi»

» ., wes but the prelude to a still more violent altercation.

A leagde fiitth^, on descending thé side of a mountain, we fioeovered the tc^s of two lofty towers rising from n derp vf4'

2$9 TtiXytLÊ IN. flREMBi riLBSTDiSf

ley. This was the cooTcnt of 8t Sabfu Ab we wet^ l^proielk* iog it, a fresh troop of Arabs, concealed in the bottom of a rm Tine, rushed upon our escort with loud shouts. In a momevlk we beheld stones flying, daggers glistening, pieces cocked. Alia rushed into the midst of the ffay, and we ran to his. a^sislance. He seized the chief of the Bedouins by the beard, pulled hiift down under the belly of his horse, and threatened to kill bin unless he pot an end to the quarrel. During this tumult» ai Greek monk shouted on his part, and made motions from the tO|ik of a tower ; in Tain he endeavoured to restoiie peace» We baA ROW all arrived at the gate of St 8aba. The friars within tumeil the key, but only very deliberately, fearing lest âueir monasters^, should be plundered m the confusion. The janiasaif, impaliiil^ Of tliis delay, flew into a passion both with the religious and tht* Arabs. At length he diew his sabre, and seemed, preparing to, eut off the head of the Bedooin chief, whom he jtHl held fay: thir beard, with surprising force, when the gate of the conFent opont ed. Into the court we rushed peU-meU, and the gate doseil upon us. The affair now becasne more serious : we were noLm the interior of the convent; there was another cottit to pass, mA the gate leading to it was not open. We were confined in a yerj narrow space, where we wounded one awMther with our anna» and where our horses, terrified at the noise, became ungovens- able. All pretendefl that he had turned aside the dagger of ain Arab, who had aimed a stroko at me from behind, and showeé- me his hand covered with blood ; .but Ali, th<Migh a yery honeat. follow in other respects, was fond of money, like all the Turkst The second gate of the monastery opened ; the supwtor appear* ed, said a few words, and the tumult waa appeased» We wece«  ^en apprised of tlie cause of the-diepute.

The Arabs who had last attacked us, belonged to a tribe that claimed the exclusive ri^t of conducting strangers to St Saba* The Betfaiebamites, who were desirousof receiving the price of the escort, and who have a character for courage to suppoiÉtf would not give up the point. The 6i^»erior of the monasteigr hadi* promised that I should satisfy the Bedouins, and matters wen|. adjusted. I declared I would give them nothing to punish them^ Ali Agarepresented.that if I adhered to this resolution we shoidd licver lie able to reach the Jordfm; tbi|t.t)ie.8e Arab^. would suw^

«ÔtPT, AîlfD BARBAmr; 2ft

fhoik âdhèr tribes to their aid ; and we sfaould he infallibly murdea^

ed ; that this it^as the reason why he would not kill their chief, èéeause if blood were once ?pilt, we should have no alternative hvt to return withalt possible expedition to Jerusalem.

i cloubt whetoar, any convent can be situated in a more dreary aM desolate spot than the monastery of St. Sabiu It is erected Î* the very ravine of the brook Cednm, which in this place is Hirce or four hundred feet in depth. This channel is dry, and it H only in spring that a muddy stream of reddi^ watef flows tiong it. The church is seated on a little eminence in the bottom éf the bed } whence the buildings of tiie monasteiy rise by per;- Ittmdieular flights of steps and passages hewn out of the rock on tto ode of the ravine, tiM thwr reach to the ridge of the hill where tkey terminate in two square toWers, One of these towers is out <rf the oonVtfnt ; it formerly served as an advanced post to watch tile motions of the Atubs. From the top of these towers, you descry the sterile summits of the moimtains of Judea ; and the 6ye traces beneath yon Use dry channel of the brook Cedro», where you perceive the grots formerly inhabited by the final aochoritesr Blue pigeons now build their nests in those grots, as if to remind yon by their sighs, their innocence, and gentleness,- of ttié saints who fornmiy peopled these rocks. I must not forget- a palm-tree which grows upon one of the terraces of the cmrvent. • lain convinced tiiat it will be ootieed by all tiavellers as well a» isyself ; those only who are s«nro«ided by such dreary sterility ean'appr^ehite the valae of » tuft of verdure.

']^r the history of the convent of St Sabe, the reader may réfe^to father Nerefs letter, and flie lives of the Fathers of the Desert. In this monastery you ate still shown three or four thou- sand skulls which bek>nged to reli^ous murdered by the mfidels. The monks Mt me for a quarter of an hour fojF mysetf with tiiese relics ; they seemed aware that I deâgned one day to deliae»le the state of inlnd of the hermits of Thebais^ 1 caanat, however, nieolleet without afeefog of pain that a caloyer began to talk of political ai&drs, and to reveal to me the secrets of the court of Rus- sia. ^ Ah ! father," said I, <' where will you seek peaoe, if you cttiMtfindithere'r^

We' left the convent at three in the afternoon ; we proceeded aMii$tbe chunnel of Cedron, and then crossing the ravine puraur

ed our course to die east. We descried Jeruaaleili» through àtf opeaing between the moutitaiiis. 1 kneîf not exactly what it wi^ that X saw ; I took it for a mass of rugged rocks. The sudden appearance of that city of désolations amid a solitude so desolate had something awful ; she was truly the queen of the desert

As we adranced, the aspect of tiie mountains still continued the same, that is, white, dusty, without shade, without tree, witb- 4>at herbage, without moss. At half past four we descended from the lofty chain of these mountains to another less elevated. We iwoceeded for fifty minutes over a level plam, and at length ar- rived at the hist range of hills that form the western border of the valley of the Jordan and the Dead Sea. The sun was near set- ting, we alighted to give a little rest to our horses, and I contem^ plated at leisure the lake, the valley and the river.

When we hear of a valley, we figure to ourselves a valley either cultivated or uncultivated : if the former, it is covered yrifk crops of various kinds, vineyards, villages, and cattle ; if the latter, it fMresents herbage and woods. It is watered by a river, this river liaa windings in its coursje ; and the hills which bound this vall^ kave themselves undulations which foim a prospect agreeable to flie eye*

Here nothing of the kind is to be found Figure to yourself two long chains of mountains running in a parallel direction from north to south, witiioat breaks and without undulations. The eastern chidn, called the mountains of Arabia is the hi^esf, when seen at tiie distance of eight or ten leagues, you would take it to be a prodigious perpendiciilar wall perfectly resembling Jura in its form and asure colour. Not one summit, not the imiallest peak can be dislkiguished ; you merely perceive slif^t inflections here and there, as if the hand of the painter who drew this horisontal line along the sky, had trembled in some places.

The western range belongs to the mountains of Judea. Less lofty and more unequal than the eastern chain, it differs frcan the other in its nature also : it exhibits heaps of chalk and sand, whose form bears some resemblance to piles of arms, wavii^ fltandardsyjiirihe tents of a camp seated on the border of a plaÛÊé 'On the Arabian side, on the contrary, nothing is to be seen bu4 lahxk perpendicular rocks^ wln«h ttu'ow tbtir lengjthened shadow


ÔVfr the waters of the Dead Sea. The smalleat hird of heaven would not find among these rocks a blade of grass for its sust^*- nance ; eveiy thing there announces the country of a reprobate people, and seems to breathe the horror and incest whence sprung Ammon and Moab.

The ralley, bounded by these two chains of mountains, display» a soil resembling the bottom of a sea that has long retired from Us bed, a beach covered with salt, dry mud, and moving sands, fhrrowed as it were, by the waves. Here and there stunted shrubs with difficulty vegetate upon this inanimate tract ; their leaves are covered with salt, which has nourished them, and their b^rk has a smoky smell and taste. Instead of villages you per- ceive the ruins of a few towers. Through the middle of this val- ley flows a discoloured river, which reluctantly creeps toward» the pestilential lake- by which it is ingulphed. lis course amidst the sands can be distinguished only by the willows and the reeds that border it; and the Arab lies in ambush among these reedft to attack the traveller and to plunder the pilgrim.

Such is the scene famous for the benedictions and the curses of Heaven. This river is the Jordan ; this lake is the Dead Sea ; it appears brilliant, but the guilty cities entombed in its bosom seem to have poisoned its waters. Its solitary abysses cannot af- ford nourishment to any living creature;* never did vessel cut its waves rf its shores are without birds ; without trees, without ver- dure ; and its waters excessively bi(ter, and so heavy, that the most impetuous winds can scarcely ruffle their surface.

When you travel in Judea, the heart is at first filled wilh pro^ found disgust; but when, passipg from solitude to solitude, boundless space opens before you, this disgust wears off by de- grees, and you feel a secret awe, which, so far from depressing tbe soul, imparts life, and elevates the genius. Extraordinary appearances every where proclaim a land teeming with miracles : lie burning sun, the towering eagle, the barren fig-tree, all

  • I follow tlie genend opinion i thougli, as will be presently wen, it ie, per-

haps- unfounded.

t Strabo, PUny, and Diodonis Sicnlus, speak of rafts on T*bich tlie Arabs^ to collect aspbaltos. Diwlorus describes these rafts which were composed ot mats of hjterwoTen reeds, (Wod. KH. XIX.) Tacitns makes PiMto of a It^tt tetbe1fobTlo«9lyfifi8tdi«ti. ^ ^f^


the poetry, idl the pictures of Scripture are hece. Ev^j BftiM commemorates a mystery; every grot proclaims the fntnr^ every bill re-echoes the acceats o£ a prophet God- himself has qioken in these regions: dried up rivers, riven rooks^ half open sepulchres attest the prodigy : the desert still appears mute with terror, and you would imag^ie, that it had never presumed to iat temipt the silence dnce it heard the awful voice of the EtemaL

We descended from the ridge of the mountain, in order to pmê tile night on the banks of ihe Dead 8aa, and aflerwaids proceed along the Jordan. On entering the valley, our fittls compav drew closer together; our BetUehemites prepared their pieeea and marched cautiously before. We found,, as we advanced, some Arabs of the desert, who resort to the lake for salt, and make war without mercy on the traveller. The manners of the Bedouins begin to be corrupted by too frequent conunnmcatk» with the Turks and Europeans. They now prostitute their wivea and daughters, and murder the traveller- whom they were ibr- merly content to rob.

We marched in this mtoier for two hours, wiâi pistols in our hands, as in an enemy's country. We followed the fissures fom* ed between the sand-hilb, in mud baked by the rays of the nm. A crust of salt covered the surfece, and resembled a snowy plain, from which a few stunted shrubs reared their beads. We arrived all at once, at the lake; i say all at once, because I thought we were yet at a considerable distance from it. No mur- mur, no cooling breese announced the approach to its maipn^ The strand, bestrewed with stones, was hot; the waters of the lake were motionless, and absolutely dead along the shore.

It was quite dark. The first thing I did on alighting, was to walk into the lake up to my knees, and to taste the water. I found it impossible to keep it in my mouth. It far exceeds that of the sea in saltness, and produces upon the lips the effect of a strong solution of alum^ Before my boots were complete^ dry, they were covered with salt ; our clothes, our hats, our hands, were,, in less than three hours, impregnated with this mineral. Galen, as early as his time, remarked tbese effects, and Pococke confirms, their existence.

We pitiabed our camp on Uie brink of the lake, and the Bethle- hemitcs uwtlie fire to prepare coffee. There was no wantof wood^

S^Yrf» AND BAUAAT. tt0

fer-ihe Aore was itrewed wUh teanehe» of tawmriiwHreaa brought by the Arabs. Besides the salt whiqk these people find readj (GEMmed in this place, they extract it from the water by ebaUition. Such is the fiMoe of habit, that owr Bethlehemites who had pro- ceeded with great cautJoa over the plaiiiy were not afraid to kindle a fire which might so easily betray us. One of tlieBi employed a mngolar «scpedient to make the wood take fire : striding across the f»le, he stooped down over the fire, till Us tunic becomes inflated «rith the smoke ; then rising briskly, the air expelled by this vp^ ^eies of beUowB, blew up a brilliant flame. After we had i^kem -eoffe^f my companions went to sleep, while I alone remained «rake with our Arabs.

About midnight I heard a noise upon the lake. Hie Bethle* tiemites told me that it proceeded from lei^ons of small fiah whieh come and leap about on the shofe.s This contradicts the ofnnion generally adopted, that the Dead Sea produces no living «reatore. Pococke, when at Jerusalem, heard of a missionary who had seen fish in Lake Asphaltites. Uasselquist and Maundrell, discovered shell-fish on the shore. NL Seetsen, who is yet travel- ling in Arabia, observed in the I>ead Sea neither tbe helix nor the muscle, but found a few shefl*snails.

Pocoeke had a bottle of the water of this lake analysed. In 1778, Messrs. Lavoisier, Macquer, and Sage, repeated this analy- sa» they proved that one hundred pounds of water contain forty- five pounds six omices of salt, tiiat is, six pounds four ounces of oomoBon mariné salt, and thirfy eight pounds two ounces of marine «alt with an earthy base. The same experiment has recently been made in London by Mr, Gordon^ ^ The ipecific gravity of this water/' says M. Malte Brun, in his Annals/' is 1,211, that of fresh water being 1,000. It is perfect^ transparent Reagents demonstrate in it the presence of marine and sulphuric add; there is no alumine ; it is not saturated with marine salt ; it does not tiiange colours, such as the tornsol and violet It hokte in solution the following substances, and in the under^mentioned pro-


MamteofUme 3,920

Magnesia 10,246

Soda 10,500

«rtptele «filme ...•..'• ,054



<^ Theie fdreign substances form about one fourth of its w^ghit in a state of perfect desiccation ; but when dried only ivith a heal ef 180^ (Fahrenheit) thej form 41 per cent Mr. Gordon, wha brought home the bottle of water, which was the subject of this analysis, ascertained that persons who have never learned to swint will float on its surface."

I possess a tin vessel full of water which I took op myself oat of the Dead Sea: I have not yet opened it, but to judge from tho wvight and sound, the fluid is not much diminbhed. i intended Id try the experiment proposed by Pocoeke, which is, to put a smafl ■aa fish into this water, and observe whether they would live in lb Other occupations have hitherto prevented the accomplishment of this' design, and 1 am afraid that it is now too late.

The moon rising at two in the morning, brought with ker, «  strong breeze, winch, without eoofing the air, produced a sli^ midiilation on the bosom of the lake. The waves, charged with ■alt, soon subsided by their own weight, and scarcely broke against the shore. A dismal sound proceeded from this lake of deatl^ Vke the stifled clamours of the people ingulphed in its waters.

The dawn appeared on the oppoâte mountains of Arabia. 1%e Dead Sea, and the valley of the Jordan, glowed with an a<hnir»- ble teint; but this rich appearance served only to hei^ten te desolation of the scene.

The celebrated lake which occupies the site of Sodom ani Gomorrah, is called in Scripture, the Dead or Salt Sea ; by Ûm Greeks and Latins, Asphaltites ; Almotanah and Bahar Loth by tile Arabs^ and Ula Deguisi, by the Turks. I cannot coincidefn opinion with those who suppose the Dead Sea to be the ciaterof a volcano. I have seen Vesuvius, Solfatara, Monte Nuovo, in the lake of Fusino, the peak of the Azores, the Mamehf, opposite to Carthage, the extinguished volcanoes of Auvergne, and remuk- ed in all of tiiem the same characters, that is to say, mountams excavated in the form of a funnel, lava, and ashes, whkh exldbit- ed iucontestible proofs of the agency of fire. The Dead 8ea on ihe contrary, is a lake of great length, curved like a bow, placed between two ranges of mountains, which have no mutual eoha- rence in form, no homogeneousness of soil. They do not meet at ihe two extremities of the lake, but continue, the one to bound ihe valley of Jordan, and to nm noxthwaid as fiur as the laka^f


Tiberias ; the oilier to stretch away to the south till lest in the sands of Yemen. Bitumen, warm springs^ and phosphoric stonea «re found, it is troe, in the mountains of Arabia ; but I met with none of these in the opposite chain. But then, the presence of hot qfirmgs, sulphur, and asphaltos, is not sufficient to attest the ante- rior existence of a volcano. With respect to the ingulphed cities, I adhere to the account gjiven in Scripture, without summoning; physics to my aid. Besides, if we adopt the idea of professor Mtchaelis, and the learned Biisching, in his Memoir on the Dead flea, phyùcs may be admUted in the catastrophe of the guit^ ditles, without offence to religion. Sodom was built upon amine ùt bitumen, as we know from the testimony of Moses and Jose» phus, who speak concerning wells of bitumen, in the valley of SiMnn. Lightning kindled the combustible mass, and the citfes sunk in the subterraneous conflagration. M. Malte Brun ingen- iously suggests, that Sodom and Gomorrah themselves mi^ hare been built of bituminous stones, and thus have been set in flames by the fire of heaven.

Strabo speaks of thirteen towns swallowed up in the Uke As- phaltites; Stephen of Bysantinm reckons eight; Genesis places tvein the vale of Siddim, Sodom, Gomorrah, Admah; Zeboim, mkI Beia, or Zoar, but it mentions only the two former as having been destroyed by the wrath of God. Deuteronomy mentions Ibur, omitting Bela, and Ecdesiasticus speaks of five, without enumerating them.

Prom the remark of James Cerbus, that seven considerable streams fall into the Dead Sea, Reland concludes that it dischargea its superfluous waters by subterraneous channels. Sandys, and some other travellers, have expressed the same opinion ; but it is now relinquished in consequence of Dr. Halley's observations on evaporation ; observations admitted by Shaw, though he calculates that the Jordan daily discharges into the Dead Sea six millions and ninety thousand tons of water, exclusively of the Amon, and ■even other streams. Several travellers, and among others, Troilo jnd d'Arvieux assert, that they remarked fragments of walls and palacea in the Dead Sea. This statement seems to be confirmed by Matmdrell and father Nau. The ancients speak more pod- ^e^ on this subject: Josephus, who employs a poetic expre»- llott fsaysj tluil k» p^ro^ved, on t|i« banto of tbe lake the shades


of the otendielmed cities. Strabo gives aeircwnfereiieeof vctjtf «ladia to the rains of Sodom, which are mentioned also by Ta- cHuB. I know not whether they still exist ; but as the lake rises aoMl fells at certain seasons, it is posaihle that it may alternately cover and expose the skeletons of the reprobate cities.

The other marvellous properties ascribed to the Dead Bea, hare ranished upon more ri^d investigation. It is now kno^m that bodies sink or float upon it according to the proportion of their gravity to the gravity of the water of the lake. The pes^ential vapours said to issue from its bosom are reduced to a strong sm^ «f sea water, and puffs of smoke, which announce or follow Hie emersion of asphaltos, and fugs that are really unwholesome, like all other fogs. Should the Turks ever give permisdoni and should it be found practicable to convey a vessel front Jaflk to the Dead Sea, some curious discoveries would eei^ iainly be made in this lake. The ancients were much better acquainted with it than we, as may be seen, by Aristotle, Stra- bo, Diodorus Siculns, Piiny, Tacitus, Soiians, Josephus, Galen» DIoscorides, and Stephen of Byzantium. Our old maps also tmce the figure of this lake in a much more satis&ctory mas'-' ner than the modem* ones. No person has yet made the lonr of it, except Daniel, abbot of St. Saba. Nau has preserved in his travels the narrative of that recluse. From his account we leani, that **the Dead Sea^ at its extremity, is separated as it were into two parts, and that there is a way by which yon mMj walk across It, being only mid leg deep, at least in summery that there the land rises and bounds another small lake of a circu- lar or rather oval ligure, surrounded with plains and mountains of salt ; and that the neighbouring country is peopled by innu- merable Arabs." Nyembourg gives nearly the same statement; and of these documents, tlie abbé Mariti and Volney, have avml- ed themselves. Whenever M. Seetzen publishes his travels we ahall probably possess more complete information on the subject There is scarcely any reader but what has heard of the Ik- mous tree of Sodom ; a tree, said to produce an apple pleasing ta the eye, but bitter to the taste, and full of ashes. Tacitus, hi the -fifth book of his History^ and Josephus in his Jewish tvoff are, I beleivé, tlie two first authors that made mention of the sin- ^lar fruit3 of the Dead Sea. Foulcher de Chartres, who tra*

SQYPT, Am BAE»A«,T* til

ndifid & Palestine about the year 1 100, saw the dee«(te apple,, and compared U to the pleasure» of the world. Since that period^ some writers, as Ceverius de Yerai Baumgarten, de la Vallée^ IVoilo, and certain missionaries, confirm Foulcher's statement; others, as Reland, father Neret, and Maundrell, are inclined to believe that this fruit is but a poetic image of our false joys; while other» again, as Pococke and Shaw absolutely question ito exiatence.

Amman seemed to remove the difficulty. He gave a descrip* tkm of the tree, which, accordmg to him, resembles the haw- fiioro. ^' Tbe fruity'* says he, **k a small apple, of a beautiftil colour.

Hasselquist^ the botanist, followed, and he tells a totally diC» fereot story. The apple of Sodom, as we are informed by him^ «s. not the firuit either of a tree or of a shrub, but the production of the aokmum metangena of Linœus. It is found in great abundance," says he, round Jericho, in the vailles near the Jor* dan, and in the neighbourhood of the Dead Sea. It is true that ttieee apples are sometimes full of dust; but this appears «miy when the finnt is attacked by an insect {ietUhredo) which con» verts the whole of the inside into dust, leavmg nothing but the and entire, without causing it to lose any of its colour.**

Who wowtA not imagine, after this, that the question haA beea set completely at rest, by the authorify of Hasselquist, and the still greater authority of linmeus, in his Flora PalcBsiinaT No 8U<^ thing. M. Seetzen, also a man of science and the most modem of aU travellers, since he is stilfin Arabia, does not agree with Hasseiqubt in regard to the Solanum Sodofneutn. I saw,'^ says he, during my stay at Karrack, in the house of the Greek alergyman of that town, a species of cotton resembling silk. — This cotton, as he told me, grows in the plain of £1 Gor,^ neov the southern extremity of the Dead Sea, on a tree like a fig tree^ called Abescha-es ; it is found in a fruit resembling the, pome* granate. It struck me, that this fruit which has no pulp or fleshr hk the inside, and is unknown in the rest of Palestine, might be (he celebrated apple of Sodom."

Here I am thrown into an awkard dilemma ; for I too havr the vanity to imagine that I have discovered ibe long sought ftnit. The shrub which bears it grows two or three league»


fW>ni 0te BftOttUi of the Jordan; it is thorny, and has email tidier leaves. It bears a coDsiderablc resembhuice to the shmb de- 9Cribed by Amman ; and its fruit is exactly like the little £g$rp* tian lemon, both in size and colour. Before it is ripe, it is filled with a corrosive and saline juice ; when dried it yields a blackiBb seed, which may be compared to ashes, and which in taale r^ semblés bitter pepper. I gathered half a dozen of these fruita^ I still possess four of them, dry, and in good preservation ; thej may, p^trhaps, he deserving of the attention of naturaFists.

I passed two whole hdurs (October 5th) in strollii^s on the banks of the Dead Sea in spite of my Bethlehemites who «rg^ me to leave this dangerous country. 1 was desirous of seeing the Jordan at the place where it discharges itself into the lake ; an essential point which Hasselquist alone has hitherto ejqilored; but the Arabs refused to conduct me to it, because the river^maar its mouth turns off to the left and approaches the mounUios ot Aralna* I was, therefore, obliged to make up n^y naind to pro* ceed to the curve of the river that was nearest to us. We broke up our camp, and advanced for an hour and a half with excesnve difficulty, over a fine white sand. We were approaching a groie of balm trees and tamarinds, which to my great astonishment I perceived in the midst of this sterile tract The Arabs all at once stopped, and pointed to something that I had 4iot yet re- marked at the bottom of the ravine. Unable to make out what it was, I perceived what appeared to be sand in motion. On drawing neai;^r to this singular object, I beheld a yellow current, which I could scarcely distinguish from the sands on its shores. It was deeply sunk below its banks, and its sluggish stream rM- ed slowly on. This was the Jordan.

I had surveyed the great rivers of America with that plea-- f'Ure which solitude and nature impart ; I had visited the Tiber with enthusiasm, and sought with the same interest the Eurotaa and the Cephisus ; but 1 cannot express what I felt at the sight of the Jordan. Not only did this river remind me of a renowned antiquity, and one of the most celebrated names that the most exquisite poetry ever confided to the memoiy of man ; but Us shores likewise presented to my view the theatre of the miracles of my religion. Judca is tlie only country in the world ttiat revives in the traveller tlie memory of human affairs and of oe-


leslial âiiàgB, and which, by this combination, pibduces in the soul a feeling and ideas which no other region là otpable of ex* etCing.

The Arabs sirippedi, and plungjpd into the Jordan. I duî^t Hot follow their example, on accoig^t of the fever by which I was «till tormented ; but I fell upon my knees on the bank with my two serrants and the drogman of the monastery. Having forgotten to bring a bible, we could not repeat the passages of scripture relating to the spot where we. now were ; but the drognlan, who knew the customs of the place, began to sing': Ave maris steUa, We responded like sailors at the end of their voyage : Sire de Joinville could not have been more clever than we. I then took np some water from the river in a leather vessel : it did not seen! to me as sweet as sugar, according to the expression of a pious missionary. 1 thought it on the contrary,* rather brackish ; but though I drank a considerable quantity, I felt no inconvenience from it : nay, I even think it would be very pleasant if it were purified from the sand which it carries along with it

AO Aga himself performed his ablutions. The Jordan is a sacred stream with the Turks and Arabs, who preserve many Hebrew and Christian traditions, the one derived from Ishmàel^ who^ country the Arabs yet inhabit, the other introduced stnong the Turks together with the fables of Uie Koran.

According to d'Anville, the Arabs assign to the Jordan the name of Nahar el Arden ; but father Roger says that they call it Nahar el Chiria. The abbé Mariti gives to this name the Ita- lian form of Scheria, and Volney writes El Oharia.

St. Jerome, in his treatise de Situ etNomini&us Loeorum He- àraieorum, a kind of translation of Eusebius's Chronicon, con- ceives the name of Jordan to be derived from the union of Jor* ' •od Dan, the appellation of the two sources of that river ; but in another place hé varies from this opinion. It is rejected by others on the anthority of Josephus, Pliny, and Eusebius, who place the only source of the Jordan at Paneades, at the foot of Mount Her- mon, in the Anti-Libanus. La Roque thoroughly investigates this question in Ills Travis in Syria : the abbé Marit! mcr|fy re- peats what is said by La Roque, with the addition of a passage ftom William of Tyre, to prove that Dan and Paneades were <Hic and the mme town, whieb was well known before. We may



remstk with Reland, in eontrtdictkm to the ofHoion of ^ Jerosi* that the name of the sacred tirer in Hebrew is not Jordan bol' Jorden: that, aclmltling the former reading, Jordaa signifies the River of Judgment, from Joif^ which St. Jerome tranelateid $<«iiS^'/ fluviusj and l>any judicans at judkiufH : an etymology bo j»»l that it would render the opinion respecting ihe two sources «f Jor aadt Dan improbable, if, however, geography left any rooas for doubt on the subject.

About imo leagues from the place Where We halted, I pet* cetved higher up the river a thicket of consîderabic extent. I determined to proceed tiiitber, for I calculated tliat tliis must lia oeariy the ^>ot where the Israelites passed thenvcr, fiscing Jerieho< where the manna ceased to fall, where the Hebrews tasted tlie first fruité of the Land of Pronake, where Naaman was cured of his lepro»y, and lastly, where Christ was baptij^d by 8t John. Towards this place we advanced, but as we drew near to it, we heard the voices of men in (he thicket Unfortunatefy tJie Im- man voice which cheers you erery where else, and which yow would Fove tSD>hear on the hanks of the Jordan, is precisely. what most alarms you in these desert». The Bethlehemites and (he ^gman proposed aa immediate retreat ; hut I declared that I had not come so far to be In such a hurry to return ; tliat I a^ed to go no higher up the river ; but that I was determined to eti^ mine the river facing the spot where we then stoodi

They yielded with reluctance to my resolution, a*d we again repaired to the bank of the Jordan, which a bend of the river had carried to some distance from us on the right. I found it of the same width and depth as a league lower down, that is, six or se- ven feet deep close to the shore, and about fifty paces in breadth.

The guides urged me to depart and AU Aga himself grum- bled. EUiving finiâhed making such notes as I considered mostr important, ; complied with the wishes of the bar^van ; I saluted the Jordan for the last time, and took a bottle of its water and » few rushes from its bank. We now ifuitted the river and pur* sused our way to the village of Rihha,* the ancient Jericho, at the fo^ of the mountains of Judea. Scarcely had we proceeded'

  • It is rcmArkable tliat tliis name wliich signifies perfume, is nearly the aaine

as that of the voman who CDtertained the spiea from Joibua's army at Jciiab» «hcvaieilledBAhab.

A.^iiar<€r «f a leagte in the yalley, when we pereeirej atimemtfl Ivack&of men and horses in the MUid. Âli proposed that our iMopg shonld march in elose order to prevent the Arahs (rfol conning our nnraber. <' If the^ are led/^ said he, by our or- âer and our dress to take us for Christian soldierQ» thej will not ▼entare to attaek us." What a magnlâccnf panegyric on th«  valour of our «unies !

Our suspicions were net groundless. We soon discorered Ml onr rear, on the bank of the Jordan, a body of about JtUr^ Arabs, who were watching our motions. Oar iniantry, that is^ our MAX Bethlehemites, formed the Tan ; and brought up the rear with our cavalry. The baggage was placed in the ceolre, but vnlockily the ass whicà carried it grew restive, and would not «tir without incessant beating. The drogman's horse having stepped upon a wasp's nest, the insects fell upon him, and he ran away witli Michael, who set up the most lamentable cries. John, though a Greek, kept up a good countenance, and AJi was as coun^ous as a janissary of Mahomet, 11. As for Julian, no- thing ever made any. impression upon him : the world had passed before his eyes, without his bestowing a look: upon it : he still landed himself in the Rue St. Honoré, and coming up to me at % alow pace, said, with the utmost coniposure, *' Is thene no po- fice, air, in this conntry, to keep those people in order V*

Hav^ looked at us for some time, the Arabs made some njiotjons towards us, and then to our great astonishment returned to the bushes which border the river. AH was right ; they un- doubtedly took us for Christian soldiers. We arrived without accident at Jericho.

The abbé Mariti has giv^en a good sketch of the historical facts relative to this celebrated town.* Be has also treated of « the productions of Jericho, the manner of extracting the oil of jSaceon, &c. It would therefore answer no em} to repeat what he says, except to*make ^vcls out of travels. It. is also weH known, that the environs of Jericho are adorned with a spring, whoae waters, formerly bitter were rendered sweet by a miracle of Sfisha. This spring is situated two miles above the town, a^ the foot of the mountain where Christ prayed and ihsted forty

  • lie has, botreter, omitted soiae, ta for instance ; the])rcileût wMch AnXjiqnf

mi» to Cleopatra of the territory of Jericbç.


diiys. It separates into two branches. On its banks «re see» flpme fields of doura, groups of ficlM^jas, tke tree whicb yields the h^im of Jodea/ and shrubs resembling lilac in their leaves, but which were not in flower. At present there are neither rose. n»te palm-trees at Jericho ; and I could not breat myself with thi» nicolai of Augustus : these dates, in Belon's time, were mno^ degenerated. An aged acacia, overhangs the spring, and a Mt» tie lowes anotber tree bends in such a manner over the stream- that issues from this spring as to form a natural bridge across it

^ I have observed tliat Ali A^a was a native and governor of the village of Rihha. He conducted me into his tenitoiy, wh^re I could not fail to be well received by his subjects, who aetua^p came to pay their respects to their chie£ He wished me to ^ into an old house which he called his castle, but I refused this honour, and chose rather to dine by the side of Elisha's spring, now deapmiuated the King's Fountain. As we passed through the village^ we saw a young Arab seated by himself, with his head adorned with feathers, and dressed as for some extraord- inary occasion. All who passed that way stopped and kissed his forehead and cheeks : I ^vas informed that he was just married. We halted at Elisha's spring. A lamb was slaughtered, and pnC down whole to roast before a fire kindled on the brink of the water. When the banquet was ready, we seated ourselves round a wooden clish, and each tore in pieces with his fingers a portion of the victim^ One is fond of dbcovering iniliese customs some traces of the manners of ancient times, and of finding memoriafe of Abraham and Jacob among tlie descendants of Ishmael.

The Arabe, wherever I have ^een them, in Judea, in Egypt, and even in Baibary, have appeared to me to be rather tall than short Their demeanor is haughty. They are well made and active. Tbey have an oval bead, the brow high and arche^ . aquiline nose, large eyes with a watery and uncommonly gentle look. Nothing about them would proclaim the savage, if their mouths were always shut ; but as soon as they begin to speak, you hear a harsh and strongly aspirated language, and perceive fong and beautifully white teeth, like those of jackals aiid oun-

  • This inuKt not be mistaken ûfr the celebrated haltm tree which no longer e^

inU at Jericho. It would appear that the lattpr perished about the screuth ^en- tnrjf for z^ wi^s not to be fouod at the {leriod of Arcu|ft;'s visit.


dififerâg itt this respect from the American savage, wlioaè ferocity ia in' his looks, and human expression in his month.

The Arab women are still taller in proportion than the mm* \I%eir carriage is dignified ; and by the regnl^y of their fea- tores, the heaut;^ of their figures, and the disposition of their veils^ tliey somewhat remind you of the statues of the priestesses and of the Muses. Thi» must, however be understood with some restriction: these beautiful #tatues are often clothed in rags; a wretched» squalid, and sufiering look degrades those forms so ele^ gftnt; a copper teint conceals the regâlarify of the features ; in a vrord, to behold these women as I have just delineated them, you m^vt view them at a distance, con^ne yourself to the general ap«  peai^Bce, and not enter into particiilars. .

Most of the Arabs wear a tunic, fastened round the waist by a girdle. Sometimes they ta|^e one arm out of a sleeve of this tui^c, and then they are habited in the antique style; sometimes they «put on a white woollen covering whicli serves for a toga, a mantle,. or a veil, aeeording as they wrap it round them, suspend It from their shoulders, or throw it over their heads. They ga barefoot, and are armed with a dagger, a pike, and a long firelock. The tribes travel in caravan»; the camels going in file. The first, camel is fastened by a cord, made of the tow of the palm, to the neck of an ass, which is the guide «of the troop ; the latter, as leader, is exempt from all burden, and enj<^s various privilege.* Among the wealthy tribes, the camels are adorned with fringes, flags, and feathers. *

The horses are treated, according to the purity of their blood, with more or less honour, but always with extreme severi\ty. — They are never put under shelter, biit left exposed to the most intense heat of the sun, tied by all four legs to stakes driven in the ground, so that they cannot stir. The saddle is never taken from Aeir biM^ks, they frequently drink but once, and have only one feed of barley in twenty-four hours. This rigid» treatment, so far from wearing them out, gives them sobriety, patience, and speed. I have often admired an Arabian steed thus tied down to the burning sand, liis hair loosely flowing, his head bowed between bis legs to find a little shade, and stealing with his wild eye, an oUique glance at his master. Release his legs from the shackles, ^ring upon his back; and he uriU paw in the valley, he will rejoice

in bis strength, té will ewaliotr the ground m the fieremetô of hii rage, and you recognise the original of the picture delineated hf Job.

An that has bieen related concerning the passion of the Ambs for dtories is true, and of this I shall give one eiample. In fbE night that we passed on the shore of the Dead Sea, our BeChle^ Jiemites were seated round their fire, their pieces ketng laid ma Ûte ground by tiieir sided^ while Chejr horses, tied to the stake% formed a second circle about them. Having drank their eoffiaé and talked a good deal together,/these Arabs all became ^ent, with the exception of their sheik. By the light of the ^e I comki Aee his expressive gestures, his black beard, his white teeth» tke rarious forms whicii he gave to his garments in the course of lût relation. His companions listened with profound attention, ail bending forward with their faces oyer the fire, sometimes ejacn^ )aOng an expression of admiration, at others, repeating, with qdk phasis, the gestures of the narrator. Some horses' heads advaiir cing over the company and ciiscernbile in the shade, contribntad éo give this scene the most picturesque character, espaeii^ if we include in tiié view, a corner of the Dead Sea and the moMiir tains of Judea.

If vl had studied with such interest the American hordes on tbm banks of their lakes, what a different^ species did I here contesft* plate! I had before me the descendants of the primitive race of mankind ; I beheld them with the same manners which they have retained ever since the days of Hagar and Ishmael ; I behekl them in the same desert that was assigned to them by God low their inheritance : he dwelt in ike wilderness of Pharan, I Uamû. them in the ralley of the Jordan; ^ the foot of the mountaint of Samaria; in the neighbourhood of Hebron, on the spot where «t Joshua's command, the sun stood still ; in the plain of Gomorraht» jet reeking with the wrath of Jehovah, though formerly cheered by the gracious miracles of Christ.

What particuhifly distinguishes the Arabs from the tribes of the New World, is, that amidst the rudeness of the former, yoQ still perceive a certain degree of delicacy in their manners; you perceive that they are natives of that east, which is the cradle of ^11 the arts, all the sciences, and all religions. Buried at the ex- tremity of the west, in a by-coruer of the universe, the Cawdiao

inh&bits Tftlleys sliAded by eternal forests, anc} watered by immense rive» : tiie Arab, cast a& it were, upon the high road of the world, between Africa and Asia, roves in the brilliant regions of Aurora, over a soil "Without trees and without water. Among the Itibe^ descended fiêm Ishmael, ijt is requisite Uiat there should be marters^ and servants, domestic animals, and a liberty in subjcc- tiott to laws. Among the American hordes man still enjoys in unsocial solitude his proud and cruel independence ; instead .of ihe woollen garments, he has tlie &kin of the bear ; instead of tb* lance, he is armed with the arrow ; imtead of the dagger, tlio chlk. fie knows not, and if he did, would disdain the date, the water- melon, the milk of the camel : tlesb and blood must compose bis banquets. He has not woven the hair of the goat, that foe may shelter himself under tents ; the elm, which has fallen from age^ supplies bark for his bat. He lias not trained the horse to pur- sue the antelope } he himself runs down the elk in the chase. He is not connected by his origin with the great civilized nations; tiie tMunés of his ancestors are not to be found in the annals of eat- pires; the contemporaries of hx& ancestors are ancjent oaks that are 8till«8tanding. Monuments of nature and not of history, iiw tombs of his fathers rise unheeded among unknown forests. In H word, with the American, every thing proclaims ttie savage, wlu» has not yet arrived at a state of civilization ; in the Arab, ever/ tlMBg indicates the civilized man who has returned to the savags state. .

Oa the 6th, at three m the afternoon, we quitted £lisha's spring, and set out for Jerusalem. We left on the right, the mount where Christ fasted forty days, which rises above Jerichoy exactly opposite to Mount Abarim, whence Moses, before bl* éeath, surveyed the Land of Promise. As we entered the raouo- teins of Judea, We saw the remams of a Roman aqueduct The aM>é Mai'iti, haunted by the recollection of the monks, insiste fhsX this aqueduct belonged to some ancient fraternity, or served to irrigate the adjacent lands, when the sugar-cane was cultivated in the plain of Jericho. If the mere inspection of the work were not sufficient to confute this absurd idea, we might consult Adri- chomius, in his Theairum Terrœ Sanetœ, the EludelaHo kUtorita Tcrrr. Sanctœ, by Quaresmius, and most of the travellers already quoted. The road which we piirsntd among tlie mountains was


broad and sometimes paved; it is perbaps an ancient Romlui way. We passed the foot of a mountain, formerly crowned witM a Gothic castle, which protected and commanded the road. We then descended into a deep gloomy valleyt called in Hebrew Adommin, or the place of blood. Here stocM a small town be- longing to the tribe of Judah, and in this lonely spot the Samari- tan succoured the wounded traveller. We here met the pacha's cavalry proceeding to the other side of the Jordan, on an expe- dition which I shall have occasion to notice hereafter. Fortu- nately night concealed us from the view of these troops.

We passed through Bahurim, where David, fleeing before Ab^ ■alom, was stoned by Shimei. A little farther we alighted at the fountain where Clu-ist was accustomed to rest with his apostles as be returned from Jericho. We began to ascend the back of th% Mount of Olives ; and came to the village of Bethany, wlicre the mins of Martha's house, and the sepulchre of Lazaiiis are still shown. We then descended tJie Mount of Olives which overlooks Jerusalem, and crossed the brook Cedron in the valley of Jiehoa- baphat. A |;^h winding at the foot of the temple and leading over Mount Sion, led ua to the Pilgrim's Gate after making the complete circuit of the city. It was midnight. Ali Aga obtained admisàon for us. The six Arabs returned to Bethlehem and we repaired to the convent. A thousand unfavourable reports had al- ready been circulated respecting us. It was said, that we bad been killed by the Arabs or the pacha's cavalry : I was censured for having undertaken the expedition with so small an escort, a cir- cumstance, the blame of which was thrown on the impendent character of the French. Succeeding events, however, demon- strated that had I not adopted this resolution, and availed myself of the first hourj after my arrival at Jerusalem, I should never have been able to penetrate to the Jordan.*

• I liave been informed that an Englisliman, in ihe disji^iisc of an Arab, went •lone twioe or thrice from Jctnisalem to tlic Dead S( a Tiiis is very iKMsible. and 1 eren tbink, tbat in this way, a mah runs less risk tbaa with an escort of ten or tweWe pei-sons





I WAg| employed for some hours in noting down with pencil my «<1p<^iarks on the places which I had just visited ; a practice whick f * followed during the whole of my residence at Jerusalem, rune, plflg ahout all day, and writing at night. Veiy early in the momr; ing of the 7th of October, the procurator, entered my apartment, and informed me how matters stood between the pacha and the i^perior. We concerted our measures accordingly. My firman» wet^ sent to Abdallah, who flew into a passion, shouted, threaten- ed, but at last thought fit to lower his demands» I am sorry that I eannot insert tlie copy of a letter written by father Bonaventura J de Nola to general Sebastiani, which copy I received from Bona-

Tentura himself. Besides giving a history of the pacha, it state» facts not less honourable to France than to general Sebastiani* This letter I should not venture to publish without the permissioa of the person to whom it is addressed ; and unfortunately, the general's absence deprives me of the means of obtaining suck permission.

Nothing but the strong desire which I felt to be of service to the fathers of Palestine, could for a moment have diverted my at- tention from a visit to the Holy Sepulchre. About nine the same morning I sallied from the convent attended by two friars, a drog- man, my servant, and a janissary. I repaired to the church whick encloses the tomb of Jesus Christ. All preceding travellers have described this church, the most venerable in the world, whether we think as philosophers, or as Christians. Here I am reduced to an absolute dilemma. Shall I give an accurate delineation of the sacred scenes ? If so, I can but repeat what has been said before : never was subject less known to modem readers, and never wa» subject more completely exhausted. Shall I omit the description •f those places ? Fn this case should I not leave dnt the mostfm-


278 'xsiàvzhn in «recce, ipajlestsik,

portant part of my trayels, and exclude what constitutes tbeir object and their end? after long hesitation, I determined to de- cribe the principal stations of Jerusalem from the following caor sidermtiona :

1. Nobody now reads the ancient pilgrimage» to Jerusalem; and what is rery old will probably appear quite new to the ma- jority of readers.

2. The church of the Holy Sepulchre no longer exists : it was totally destroyed by fire since my return from Judea. I am, I may say, the last traveller by whom it was yisited, and fer the game reason, I shall be its last historian.

But as 1 have not the presumption to suppose that I can excel the very able descriptions which have already been given, I shall avail myself of the works of my predecessors; taldi^ care, however, to elucidate them by my own observations.

Among these works^ I should have chosen in preference those of Protestant travellers, as more consonant with the spirit of the age : we are apt at the present day, to reject what springs, in our opinion, from too religious a source. Unfortunately, 1 found no- thing satisfactoiy on the subject of the Holy Sepulchre in Pococke, Shaw, Maundrell, Hasselquist and some others» The scholars and travellers who have written in Latin concerning the antiquities of Jerusalem, as Adamannus, Bede, Brocard, Willibald, Breyden- bach, Sanuto,Ludolph, Rdand,* Adrichomius, Quaresmius, Baum- garten, Fureri, Bochart, Arias Montanus, Reuwich, Hesse, and Cotovic,f would impose the necessity of making translations which after all, would Aimish the reader with no new information^ I have, therefore, adliered to the French travellers.^ and among

  • His work, PaUntina ex Monumcnti» vcteriàuê iUuiiratap it a miracle of

erudition. .

t His description of the HoIjt Sepulchre is so cireumstuitial, M to give the whole of the hymns sung bj the pilgrims at every station.

i There is also a description of Jerusalem in the Armenian bagoage, and an- other in modem Greek ; the latter I hare seen. The more ancient descriptions» as those of Sanuto, Ludolph, Bi*oeard« Breydenhach, Willibald, Adamannus, ^r mthcr Arculfe, and the vénérable Bede, are curious, because thej afibrd tke means of judging what changes have siooe taken place in the chnrchof the Holjr Sepulchre ; but in reference to the modem edifice, they are wholly uselesa.

§ Uc Vera, in Spanish, is very concise, and yet extremely perspicuous. Zuaf lardo, who wrote in Italian, is vague and confused. Pietio de hi Yalle charmi by the pecottar elegance of his style, and his tbguUr adTcnturet i but he is authority.


61656 I have preferred the description of the H0I7 Sepulchne by Deshajes, for the following reasons :

Belon (1550) of high celebrity as a naturaMst, says scarcely a word concerning the Holy Sepulchre ; his style is, morever, too antiquated. Other authors, either of still older date, or cotempo- rary with him, as Cachermois (1490) Regnault (1522) Salignae (1522) le Huen (1525) Gasaot (1536) Renaud (1548) Postel (1553) Giraudet (1575) likewise employ a language too different from that of the present day.*

YiUamont (1588) overloads his work with minutis, and he has neither order nor judgment. Father Boucher (1610) is so piously extravagant, that it is imposable to quote him. Benard writes with great sobriely ; thougb no more than twenty years of age at the period when he travelled; but he b diffuse, insipid and obscure. Father Facifico (1622) is vulgar, and his narrative too concise. Monconys ( 1 647 ) pays attention to nothing but medical recipes. Dôubdan (1651) is clear, learned, and well worthy of being consulted ; but prolix, and apt to lay too much stress ou trivial objects. Roger, the friar (1653) who was for &ve years at- tached to the service of the holy places, possesses erudition and judgment, and writes ia a lively, animated style ; his description of the Holy Sepulchre is too long, and on this account I have ex- cluded it Thevenot (1656) one of the most celebrated French travellers has ^ven an excellent account of the church of the Holy Sepulchre, and i would advise the reader to consult his work : but he implicitly follows Deshayes. Father Nau, a Jesuit (1674) added to a knowledge of the oriental languages, the advantage of visiting Jerusalem with the marquis de Nointel, our ambassador at Constantinople, and «the same gentleman to whom we are indebl^ ed for the first drawings of Athens : but it is a pity that the learn- ed Jesuit is so insufferably prolix. Father Neret^s letter in the Lettres Edifiantes is excellent in every respect, but omits too oumy thingsu The same may foe said ef Du Loiret de la Roque (1688.) As to travellers of veiy recent dale, such as MuUer, Vanzow, Korte, Bescheider, Mariti, Yobiey, Ntebuhr, and Brown, they are almost totally silent respecting the holy places.

The narrative of Deshayes (1621) who was sent to Palestine

  • Some of OMteanChoft irrite iirliStw; tat tkmt are old Frendi veniflRtf «f


by Louis XIII, appears, therefore, to me, the fittest to be ioh lowed.

1. Because the Turks themselves were solicitous to show this ambassador whateyer was curious at Jerusalem, and he might even have obtained admission, had he pleased, into the mosque of the temple.

2. Because he is so clear and so precise, in the style, now somewhat antiquated, of hu secretary, that Paul Lucas has, ac- cording to his usual custom, copied him, verbatim, without ac knowledging the plagiarism.

3. Because d'Anville, and this, indeed, is the primary reasovi has taken Deshayes's map for the subject of a dissertation, which 18, perhaps, the master-piece of that celebrated geographer.* Deshayes will, therefore, furnish us with the description of the church of the Holy Sepulchre, to which I shall subjoin my ojb- servafions.

The Holy Sepulchre, and most of the sacred places, arc at- tended by Franciscan friars, who are sent thither every three years ; and though they are of all nations, yet they all pass for. French or Venetians, and they could not n;iaintain their ground were they not under the king's protection, About sixty yean ago, they had a habitation without the city on Mount Sion, on the spot where our Saviour instituted the Lord's supper with his disciples; but their church having been converted into a mosque, they have since resided in the city on Mount Gihon, upoa which stands tlieir convent St. Saviour's. , Here dwells theb superior, with the members of the family, which supplies with monks all the places in the Holy I^and that stand in need of them.

" From this convent the church of St Sepulchre is but two hundred paces distant It comprehends the Holy Sepulchre, Mount Calvary, and several other sacred places. It was partly built by direction of St Helena, to cover the Holy Sepulchre ; but the Christian princes of succeeding ages caused it to be enr larged so as to include Mount Calvary, which is only fifty paces from the Sepulchre.

    • In ancient times, Mount Calvary, as I have already observ-*

ed, was without the city ; it was the place where criminals, sen- tenced to suffer death, were executed; and that all the pe<^]e

  • This disiertatian, ▼hicH h verj ecarcc, » gÎTen in (Ite AppcA^ix.


might aitead on these occasions, there was a hirge vacant space between the eminence and the wall of the city. The rest of the iiiil was surrounded with gardens, one of which belonged to Jo- seph of Arimathea, who was, in secret, a disciple of Jesus Christy here he had constructed a sepulchre for himself, and in this the body of our Lord was deposited. The Jews were not accus- tomed to bury their dead in the manner that we do. Each ac- cording to his ability, had a kind of little closet excavated in some rock, where the body was laid at length upon a table, also cut out of the rock, and this receptacle was closed by a stone pla- ced before the entrance, which was generally no more than four feet in height.

" The church of the Holy Sepulchre is veiy irregular, owing to the nature and situation of the places which it was designed to comprehend. It is nearly in the form of a cross, being one hun- dred and twenty paces in length, exclusive of the descent to the discovery of the Holy Cross, and seventy in breadth. It has three domes, of which that covering the Holy Sepulchre serves for the nave of the^church. It is thirty feet in diameter, and is covered at top like the Rotunda at Rome. There is no cupola, it is true ; the roof being supported only by large rafters, brought from Mount Lebanon. This church had formerly three entran- ces, but now there is but one door, the keys of which are cau- tiously kept by the Turks, lest the pilgrims should gain admit- tance without paying the nine sequins, or thirty-six livres demand-* ed for this indulgence ; I allude to those from Christendom ; for the Christian subjects of the Grand Signor pay no more than half thi^ sum. This door is always shut ; and there is only a small wmdow, crossed with an iron bar, through which the people without hand provisions to those within, who are of eight differ- lent nations.

^ The first is that of the Latms or Romans, which is represent- ed by the Franciscan friars. They are the keepers of the Holy Sepulchre, the place on Mount Calvaiy, where our Lord wa^ nailed to the cross ; the spot where the sacred cross was disco* vered ; the Stone of Unction, and the chapel where our Lord ap- peared to the Blessed Virgin after his resurrection.

^The second nation is that of the Greeks, who have the ehoir of the churchy where they officiate : ii) the pudiit of it is a small


«ircle of marble; the centre of which they look upon as the middle of the globe.

" The third is the nation of the Abyssinians, to whom belongs the chapel containing the pillar of Jmpropere.

^ The fourth nation is that of the Copts, who are Egyptian Christians : these hare a small oratory near the Holy Sepulchre.

  • ' The fifth nation is the Armenian, They have the chapel of

St Helena, and that where the soldiers cast lots for, and divided, the apparel of our Lord.

  • ^ The sixth nation is that of the Nestoriails, or Jacobites, who

are natives of Chaldea and of Syria. These have a small chapel near the spot where our Lord appeared to Mary Magdalen, in iht Ibrm of a gardener, and which is, on that account, denominated Magdalen^s Chapel.

The seventh is the nation of the Georgians, who inhabit the country between the Euxine and the Caspian Sea. They keep the place on Mount Calvary where the cross was prepared, and the prison in which oar Lord was confined till the hole was made to set it up in.

" The eighth nation is tliat of the Maronites, who inhabit Mount Lebanon. like us, they acknowledge the supremacy of the pope.

'* Exclusîvçly of these places, which all who are within are at liberty to visit, each nation has a particular spot allotted to if in the aisles and corners of this church, where its members assem- ble and perform their devotions, according to their respective rituals: for the priests and religious who enter this place, are usu- ally two months before tliey leave it; that is, till others are sent from the convent in the city to attend in thek stead. It would be scarcely posûble to remain there lon^ without being ill, be- cause the place has very little air, and the vaults and walls pro* ^lice a coldness that is extremely nnwholesome : nevertheless, we there found a worthy hermit who has assumed the habit of St Francis, and lived twenty years in the place without e?ef leaving it There is, moreover, such abundant employment to keep two hundred lamps burning, and to sweep and cleanse all the holy places, that mo more than four hottrs a night can be Id- lowed for sleep.


^< On entering the church, you come to the Stone of Vnctioii on which the body of oar .Lord was anohited with myrrh and aloes, before it was laid in the sepulchre. Some say that it is of the same rock as Mount Calvary; and others assert that it was brought to this place by Joseph and Nicodemus, secret disciples of Jesus Christ, who performed this pious office, and that it is of a greenish colour. Be this as it may, on account of the indiscre- tion of certain pilgrims, who broke off pieces, it was found ne- cessary to cover it with white marble, and to surround it with aa iron railing, lest people should walk over it This stone is eight fieet, wanting three inches, in length, and two feet, wanting one inch, in breadth; and above it, eight lamps are kept continually burning.

The Holy Sepuldire is thirty paces from this stone, exactly in the centre of the great dome, of which I have already spoken : it resembles a small closet, hewn out of the solid rock. The entrance, which faces the east, is only four feet high, and two feet and a quarter broad, so that you are obliged to stoop very much to go in. The interior of the sepulchre is nearly square. It b six feet, wanting an inch, in length, and six feet, wanting two inches, in breadth, and from the floor to the roof, eight feet one inch. There is a solid block of the same stone, which was left in excavating the other part. This is two feet four inches and a half high, and occupies half of the sepulchre ; for it is six feet, wanting one inch, in length, and two feet and five sixths wide.^ On this table the body of our Lord was laid, with the head to- wards the west, and the feet to the east; but on account of the superstitious devotion of the Orientals, who imagine that, if they leave their hair upon this stone, €rod will never forsake them, and also because the pilgrims broke off pieces, it has received a cov- ering of white marble, on which mass is now celebrated. Forty^-* four lamps are constantly burning in this sacred place, and iiree holes have been made in the roof for the emission of tbe smoke. The exterior of the sepulchre is also faced with ^abs of marble, and adorned with several columns, having «  dome above.

" Ât the entrance of tbe sepulchre there is a stone about a foot ftUd a half square, and a foot thick, wMch is of the same rock, and «^ed to support the large stone which closed the access to the



I sepulchi^. Upo0 thi» Btone was seated the angel when he vpcke

to the two MorieB ; and as well on account of this mysteiy, as to preTent the sepulchre from bemg entered, the first Ghristians f erected hefore it a little chapel, which is called the Angel's Cha-


• ^< Twelve paces from the Hblf Sepulchre, turning towards the north, jou come to a large block of gray marble, about four feet in diameter, placed there to mark the spot where our Lord ap- peared tp Mary Magdalen in the form of a gardener.

'^ Farther on is the Chapel of the Apparition, where, as tradition asserts, our Lord first appeared to the Virgin Mary after his resur- rection. This is the place where the Franciscans perform their devotions, and to which they retire ; and hence they pass into chambers vnth which there is no other communication.

^* Continuing your progress round the church, you find a small vaulted chapel, seven feet long and six wide, otherwise denomi- nated the Prison of our Lord, because he was here confined while the hole was made for erecting the cross. This chapel is oppo* .«ite to Mount Calvary, so that these two places form what may be termed the transept of the church, the hill being to the south, and the chapel to the north.

" Very near this is another chapel, five paces long and three broad, /standing on the very spot where our Lord was stripped by the soldiers before he was nailed to the cross, and where they cast lots for his apparel, and divided itamong them.

'^ Leaving this chapel, you find on the left a great staircase, which pierces the wall of the church, and descends into a kind of cellar dug but of the rock. Having gone down thirty steps, you come to a chapel on the left hand, which is common^ called the Chapel of St. Helena, because she prayed there while she caused search to be made for the sacred cross. You descend eleven more steps to the place where it was discovered, together with the nails, the crown of thorns, and the head of the spear, alter lying buried in this place upwards of three hundred years.

" Near the top of this staircase, turning towards Mount Calva- ry, is a chapel, four paces long and two and a half broad, under the altar of which is a pillar of gray marble spotted with black, hro feet in height, and one in diameter. It is «ailed tiie pillar o(

ft61TT, AND EABBABrT. i|89

fcyrqpgffe, because our Lord, was there forced to sit doivn In •rdér to be crowned with thorns.

Ted paces from this chapel, you come to a ver^ narrow stûr*^ case, the steps of which are of wood at the beginmng, and of stone at the end« There are twenty in all, bj which you ascend to Mount Calvary. This spot, once so ignominious, having been •anctlfied by the blood of our Lord, was an object of the particu- kr attention of the first Christians. Having removed every im* purify, and all the earth which was upon it, they surrounded it with walls, so that it is now like a lofty chapel enclosed mthin this spa^^ious church; It is lined in the interior with marble, and divided by a row of arches into two parts. That towards the Berth is the spot where our Lord was nailed to the cross* Here thirty-two lamps are kept continually burning : they are attended by the Franciscans, who daily perform mass in this sacred place.

^^ In the other part, which is to the south, the Holy Cross was erected. You still see the hole dug in the rock, to the depth of nbout a foot and a half^ besides the earth that was above it Near Um is the place where stood the crosses of the two thieves. That of the penitent thief was to the norths and the other to the south ; 80 that the first was on the right-hand of our Saviour, who had his face turned towards the west, and his back to Jerusalem, which lay to the ea|t Fifty lamps are kept constantly burning in hpnour of this holy spot

'* Below this chapel are the tombs of Godfrey de Bouillon and Ids brother Baldwin, on which you read these inscriptions :



  • Béaideft tbeàe imnht, four others are to be seen^luilf demolished^ On one of

then may still be read, but not without great diffieultr, an epitaph ^ven by CotOTie.


<« Honni GÛTary k the last steddii of tiie dimeiiéf Oe H^f Sepulchre; for, twen^ paces from it, yon agail»cttBMf<^4lie8l00e of Unelioii, Tdneh is jort at the entraneé of the ehiirch«

Deshajea having- thus deacrihed in order the BtaeioBs of aB tfaes» i^enerabie places, I have noir nothmg to do hut td exMhtt to the ^der a general view of the whole together.

It is ohvfooB, in the fet pfaMSe^thalAe elmrchof tiiello^ Se^ pidchreis ooBipoied of three charehes : that of the Holy Sepul' chre^ properly so caBed ; ttiat of Calvary ; aad the charoh of the Biscovery of the Holy Cross.

The Ant is built hi the valley at the foot of Calvaiy^oft the spM fihere it is hnown that the body of Christ ^as depodted. lliis ehurefa ia in tiie fbrm of a erossy the chapel of the Holy Sepulchre oons^teling io fact the nave of the edifice. It is cireuhuv hhe the Paatheo» at Rome, and is lighted oiày by a dome, benealh whMi IS the sepulchre. Sixteen marble colanniâ adom the dreamfeieiioe of tlds rotunda : they are connected by seventeen arches, and support an upper gallery,^ Bkewlse eompoeed of s&xteen eolunin» and ëeventee» arclKS, of snsaller Anensions tfian those of tie lower range. Niches eorrespondu^; vrith the aMihes appear ahow the frieee of the second gallery,, and t!ie dome springs fW>m liie arch of these niehes. The latter were formerly decowted wiUr Mosaiea,. re prf senting the twelve aposUes^ St. Helen|r the empe^ ror Constantine, and three other portraits unknown.

The choir of the church of the Holy Sepulchre is to the east of the nave of the tomh: it is doublé, as in the ancient cathedrals -^ that is to say, it has first, a place with stalls for the priests ; and be- yond that, a sanctuary raised two steps i|bove it Round this double sanctuary run, Ac aisles of the choir ; and in these aisles, are situ^ ated the chapels described by Deshayes.

It is Okewise in the aisle on the right, behind die choir, that we find the two flights of steps leading, the one to the church of Cat<^ vary, the other to the church of the Discovery of the Holy Oross^^ HThe first aâceuds to the top of Calvary; the second conducts yon down underneath it : for the cross was erected on the summit of Golgotha, and found again under that hill. To sum up then, what we have already said, the church of the Holy Sepulchre is built at the foot of Calvary ; its eastern part adjoins that eminence, he-

x«m>y jam mABSimr* ttf

Mifli and upm ivtiohham beeiicQivtnietailir^ ofher iJMirclifs»

The archilBctiife of the church is erideoUy of (àe ftge of Con- «tantiae: The Cbrinthiaa order prcvaOBthroHghoiit Theeobmat en either too heavy or too aleiuler ; and their diaiaeter is almoêt always difli^roportioiiaie to their hei^t. Some double plumas iKhieh sapport the ineae of the choir are» hoareTer,laa veiygood ^le^ The church being lofi^ and ipaciou&» the profile of the «Bomices diq^ys a considerable degree of grandeur ; bat as the afclies which separate the choir from the nave were stopped up aJbout sixty years ago, Ibe horisontal line is brolieni and you no longer ei^y a Tiew of the wiiole of the vaulted rooC

The cboFch has ao vestibuie, nor any other etitraaoe than two aide doors, oaly one of which is ever opened. Thus this struc- jtare aiders to have never had any exterior décorations» It is be- aides concealed by shabby buildings, and by the Greek coarents erected close to its walls.

The smidl stmctnas of imrhle which covers the Hol|y Sepid- «dure is in the figinre of a canopy, adorned wiA semi-gothic arches ; it rises with elegance under the dome, by which it receives light, kut it is spoiled by a massive chapel which the Armcniaas have «btained permission to erect at one end id it Th^ iotertor of this canopy presents to the view a veiy plain tomb of white marble, «rhidi adjoins on one side to the wall of the monument, and serves Ae Catholic religious for an altar* This is the tomb of Jesus Christ

The Origm of the church of the Holy Sepulchre is of hi^ antiquity. The author of the Epitome of the Boly Wars (EpUome Beilorum taarorumj asserts, that forty-six years after file destruction of Jerusalem by Vespasian and Titu^ the Christ lians obtained permission of Adrian to build, or rather to re^ bnild, a church over the tomb of their €rod, and to enclose in the new city the other places venerated by the Christians. This cfaorcb, he adds, was enlarged and Repaired by Helena, the mob- ilier of Constantine. Quaresmlus contests this opinion, ^* be- eanse, says he, '^ the believers were not allowed till the reiga of Constaatine to erect such churches.'* This learned monk for- gets Hiat anterior to the persecution by Diocleaian, Ûie Chris- tiias possessed amneroos churches, and publicly celebrated

the mfetmti of tfaelf refigioa. Lactanâns and Siuebius boMi of the opulence and prosptiïiy of the belîeTers at this period* • Other writeTB worthy of credit, Sosomenesy in the second book of his History; St Jeromis, in his letters to Piwlina and Ruffinns ; Bererm, in his second book ; Nicephonis, in his eigh* teenth ; and Ensebins, in the life of Oonstantine, informs us thai the Pagans surrounded the sacred places with a wail ; that ihey erected a statue of Jupiter on the tomb of Jesus Christ, and another of Venus on Mount Calvary ; and that they conseeratedL a grove to Adonis on the spot wliere our Saviour was bora. These testimonies not only demonstrate the antiqiûty of Ifte true worship at Jerusalem, by this very profimatlon of the saertd places, but prove th^t the Christians bad sanctuaries on tboae spots.

Be this as it may, the foundation of the church of tiie Ho|y Sepulchre dates at least as fur back as the time of Constantiae. A letter of tliat prince is yet extant, in which he commands Mar earius, bishop of Jerusalem, to erect a church on the place where the great mystery of salvation was aecoompiished. This letter Eusebius has preserved. The bishop of Ossareathen describes the new eluirch, the dedication of which occupied ei^ days. If the account of Eusebius required confirmation from other tes- timonies, we might adduce those of Cyril, bishop of Jerusa- lem, (Cakch, t. 10. 13.) of Theodoret, and even.Af the Itinerary from Bourdeaux to Jerusalem, in 333, which says: Ibidem^ jusm ConstanHni imperaUniSj basilica facta eat ndrœ puiekri iudinia.

This church was ravaged by Cosroes li, king of F^rnSi about three hundred years after its erection by Conatanlme. Heraclius recovered the genuine cross; and Modestns, bishop of Jerusalem, rebuât the church of the Holy Sepulchre. Some ' time afterwards, the chalif Omar made himself master of Jem* salem, bat he allowed the Christians the free exercise of ther veligion. About the year 1009, Hequem, or Hakem, who then reigned in Egypt, spread desolation around the tomb of Christ ^ome will have it, that this prince's mother, who was a Chris*- tian, caused the church to be again rebuilt ; while others assert, that the son of the Egyptian chalif, at the solicitation of the em» peror Argyropilus, penqitted'the believers to enclose th^ sacr^

KatWTfàxu BAEBâEr» sat

filatM.wilh. m new.Btnietare* But aa tbe ChiistiaDB of Janist'- iem poMeaaed^ in Hakem's lime, ndiher the reaoarceB nor ihe tkiU requisite for tlie erection of the edifice which now co?«ni €aiirai7 $* as notwithitfiuMting a yeiy suspicions passage of Wil* iiam of Tyre^ we find no indication that the Cmsaders ever bnit JtLay church for the H0I7 Sepulchre at Jerusalem ; it is probable that the church founded bj Constantine has always subsisted in its present fonn, at least as iar| as regards the walls of the stmc* tune. The mere inspection of the architecture of this buiWng would suffice to demonstrate the truth of what I adrance.

The crusaders having gained possession of Jerusalem the 15th of Jnljr 1099, wrested the tomb of Christ from the hands ot the Infkteit. It remained eighfy-eight years in the power of the Buceessors of Godfrey of Bouillon. When Jerusalem again fell under Hie Mahometan yoke, the Syrians ransomed the church of the Holy Sepulchre with a considerable sum of money, and monks repaired to defend with their prayers a sfiot entrusted in ▼aitt to the arms of kings. Thus, amid a thousand revolutions, the piety of the early Christians preserved a chureh of which the present age was destined to witness the destruction.

  • The ancient travellers were extremely fortunate : th^ were

not obliged to enter into all these critical disquisitions ; in the first place, because they found in their readers that religion which never contends against truth ; and secondly, because eveiy mmd was convinced that the only way of seeing a countiy as it 48, must be to see it with all its traditions and recollections. It H In fact, with the bible in his hand, that a traveller ought to visit the Holy Land. If we are detemnned to carry with us a spirit of cavil and Contradiction, Judea is not worth our going so far to examine it. What should we say to a man who, in traversing Greece and Italy, should think of nothing but contradicting Homer ftnd Vi^ Î Such, however, is the course adopted by modem travellera ; evidently the eflTect of our vanity, which would ez-^ cite a hif^ idea of our own abilities, and at the same time fill ua with disdain for those of other people.

Ohrlstlan readers will perhi^ps inquire, what were my feelings

  • It Is said that Mary, wife of Hakem, and mather of his laccessor, defrayed'

the e)cp«nie of it, and that in this pious undertaking she was assisted hj Constant

m enteriog «Us awfcl piaœ. I rwVr ean^t «alL flb M«r fdleeiioiiB ruahed al mee upon oqr miadl, that I «a» inable la direU upon aogr partkidar Idaa» I nootÎDneënear ahatf anluar upon my imeaa in the Mille d^amber o£ Ihe Eoiy Bapakhie^ with my eyes nretted on the -stoiie» 6iMn which I had not tha power to turn them. One of the two reKgionswiioaceoaqianM me remained proatrale on the marble by my «dSt while Iht •Iher, with the Testament in his hand» read to me by Ihe iiglit of the lamps the passages relating to the saered tomb. Betwiesa each verse he repeated a pmyer : Domine Juu Ckridt^ qui m hori êki vesperUnâ de àruee depemhu^ m bratkiiê 4 itiê iuiz reeànaiua JwH, horâqut fdtimàmhoti fnenio eorput hmm examine coniuUsH, ^ AU i eau B9y. is» flat when I behehi this triumphant sepulehre, I felt nothing bnt wgr own weaknesB ; and that when my guide exclaimed with 8t* FuÈ^ «( O death, where is thy vietoiy ( O grave, where is thy almgr I fislened as if death were about to refdy Chat bp waaeonqaere^ fnd enchained in this monument

We Tidted all the stations till we eame to the summit U Calvary. Where shaU we look in antiquity for any thing sp .im* pressive, so wonderful, as the last scenes deseiibed by the evan- gelists? These are not the absurd adventures of a deity fo>^ leign to human nature : it is the most pathetic histoiy^Hn histo- ly, which not only extorts tears by its beauty, bnl whose eonssr quences, applied to the universe, have changed the laee of tht earth. I had just beheld the monunEMnts of Gmace, and my mind waa still profoundly impressed with their grandeur; but bow far inferior were the sensations which Ihey exeitod to these which I felt ^ the sight of the places eommemomted in the foapel i

The church of the Holy Sepulohre, composed of aeveial drarches, erected upon an unequal surface, iHumined by a m«|r titude of lamps, is singularly mysterious ; a sombre light pes» vades it, favourable to piety and profound devotion» Ch»tiao priests, of various sects, inhabit different parts of the edtflee. From the arches above, where they nesUe like pigeons, from the ehapels below, and subterraneous vaults, thrâ songs are heaid at all hours both of the day and night The organ of the I#ti«  monks, the cymbals of the Abyssinian priest, the voice of the Gr^ek choyer, the prayer of the solitary Armenian, the plaintiva


r«f tteCoplie ftte, MemMfy^ or aU «t oaee «aB«il yow Mur : jen kaoir aot wlience tlwfle ebncerts proceed ; jou iahaie ibe perfnme ef inoBMe, wiUioiit pereeiykig the head that bumi U; yen WÊmfy perceÎTé aie pontiff wbo ia going to celebimte the moit «vrfnl of nqrsterieB on the very gpot where they were eo eoipiiahed, pea» qâck^ by, glide behmd the cohuaui^ and Wk* kkia the f^oùta of the temple.

I did not leave the «aered fttmetiire without atoppiag at the MMRimeDta of Qodkef and Baldwin. Th^ face the e&traaee of the church, and stand ^^aimt the wall of the choir» I saluted the asher off these royiA dieTatteni^ who were woftliy ef rqKMÎng near the tomb which they had rescued. These ashea are tiioM of Frenchmen^ and they are Uie only mortal remains interred be* neatfa the shadow of the tonri» of OMst What an honooaablo dbtinctioft for sgr conairy !

I returned to the convent at eierea o'^oek, and an hour after* mrâs I agahi left it to foDow the Vi» Dohrosa. Tins is the name g^Tcn to the way by which the Sarionr of the world passed fioaa tàt residence of Pihde to CaNary.

Filaite's house* is a ruin, from which you surrey the esten* d?e site of SMomoi/s temple, and the mosque erected on thai

Ohriflt, hcrittg been sceinrged with rods, crowned witt flionis^ aid dresaed in a purple robe» was presented to the Jews by Filateir tue Homo ! exclaimed the judge, and you still see the window torn which tliese memorable words were pronounced*

According to the tradition current among the Latins at Jew* sslem^ the crow» of Jesus Christ was tidcen from the thorny trecf oMtd Lffdum apêrtùiunu Hasselqdstr a ddlful botanist» is, how- erer, of opinion, that the tiMca of the Arabs was employed for that purpose. The reason Which he gtves for thn deserres to bo mentioned.

""Kishigbiy probable, si^è he, ««that the noMa fûifaifebed the eiowB which was put on the head of our Saviouf • It i» common in the emt A plant better adapted for this purpose eonld not hare been selected; for it » armed with thorns, ita feranohes are sn^le and pliant, and its leaf is of a dark green»

  • The goremér of Jerniftlem ffbrmerly retlded in tliif bnflfint» but «tpreMflt

tiete vvltts lorre «nly for ttsblaigfor bis hwMt.

292 TEAVËla ur GtEEûc, PAiitSTonB,

Eke that of ivy. Perhaps, in order to add imiilt to pankfaAieirf, Ihe enemies of Christ chose a plant nearly resembfing that made Qse of to crown the emperors and the generals of armies.'*

Another tradition at Jerusalem preserves the sentence pro- noimced by Pilate on the Saviour of the world, In these words :

Jesum NazarenuMy suhversoreni gentiSi coniemptortm CcRtor rUj etjblsum MesnoMy vt mojjorum 9uœ genUs teaUmanio proba- turn estf ducik ad eotnmunis suppUeU loeum^ ui eum ludibms re- giœ majestaHs in medio duarum kutronunt trud qffigik. 1, Uetùr^ txpedi erute».

A hmidred paces frdm the arch of the Eeco Homo, I was idiown on the left the ruins of a church formerly dedicated to Ow Lady of Qrief, It was on this spot that Mary, who had beeù at first driven away by the guards, met her son bending beneaih the weight of the cross. This circumstance is not recorded- by the ErangeHsts ; but it u generally believed, on the authori^ of 8t Boldface, and St Anselm. The former says, that the Vilrgiit sunk to th6 ground as if lifeless, and could not utter a single word : nee verbum dieere potuii. 8t Anselm assert that Christ saluted her in these Words : Salve^ Maier ! As John relates âiat Mary was at the foot of the cross^ tins account of the fathers is hi^iy probable. Religion is not disposed to reject these tradi- tions, which show how profoundly the wonderful and sublime history of the passion is engraven on the memory of man. Eileen centuries of persecutions without end, of incessant re- volutions, of continually increasing ruins, have not been able to erase or to hide the traces of a mother going to weep over her son.

Fifty paces farther we came to the spot where Simon, the Cy-» renean, asristed Jesus to bear his cross. — ^ And as they led him away, they laid hold upon one Simon, a Cyrenean, coming out of the country, and on him they laid the cross, that he might heu it after Jesus.*'*

Here the road, which before ran east and west, makes an an- gle, and turns to the north. I saw on the right the place where dwelt the indigent Lazuros, and on the opposite side of the street, the rendence of the obdurate rich man. — *^ There was a certain rich man who was clothed in purple, and fine linen, and fared MUBptuously every day. And there was a certain beggar, named • Luke xtfii. 2S.

ljftssiMU0> which was laid at his gate, full of soieaj and deBiriiig to he lietil with the cnuaha which fell from «the rieh man's table : jaoreoTi^, the dogs came.aod licked his aojessi And it came to pass, that the beggar died, and was carried by the aogels into Abraham's bosom : the rich man also died, and was buried. And in hell he lift up his eyes, being in great torments."*

St Ghrysostom, St. Ambrose, and St Cyril, have looked upon the history of Lazarus and the rich n^n aa not merely a para- ble, but a real and well known fact The Jews themselves have preserved the name of the rich man, whom they call Nabal.

. .. Having passed the house ot the rich man, you turn to the xigbt, and again proceed in a westerly direction* At the entraoco of the street, which leads up to Calvary^ Christ was met by the holy women, who deplored his iate-^" And there followed him a grçai company of people, and of women, which also bewailed and ]amej(ded him. But Jesus turning unto them, said : Daughters of Jerusalem, weep not for me, but weep for yourselves and for your childicen."f

,. One hundred and ten paces farther is shown the site of the bouse of Veronica, and the spot where that pious woman wiped the face of the Lord. The original name of this female waa Berenice : by the transposition of two letters, it was afterwards adteredinto VerOficoni true image; besides, the change of b into V is very frequent in the ancient languages.

Proceeding about another hundred paces, you come to the Ju- dicial Gate, by which criminals were led to be executed on Golgo^ Iha. That hill, now enclosed within the new city, was without the walk of ancient Jerusalem.

The distance from the Judicial Gate to the summit of Calva- ry, is about two hundred paces. Here terminates the Via Bolo- tosa^ which may be in the whole about a mile in length* We have seen that Calvary is at present comprised in the church of the Holy Sepulchre. If those who read the iûstoiy of the paii^

. sion in the gospels are overcome with sacred melancholy and profoynd admiration, what must be his feelings who traces the scenes themselyes at the foot of Mount Sion, in right of the tem- ple, and within the very walls of Jerusalem Î After this description of the Via Dolorosa^ and the church of

• C«ke XTÎ. ig-.^3. t Ltike aodli. S7, 21.


294 T&ATEB8 m «tBce, rALMmoiy

the Holy Sepolcfare, I thdl say v^yy littt« eoncendngtfke oflker places of derotton in tire tity. I dmU merely ewmetailto tbeoi in the order in wfaleh fUey vvmre tisitid hy me, dorthf my at^ at Jemsafem.

1. The house of Anna, the ffrlseet, near Darid^ii Chile, at the foot of Bfonnt SiDn, wIthhiDke waH of the efty. The iLnneniiana possesfl the ehurch erected on the ruins of tfds house.

2. The place frhere our SaTiour appeared to Mary Kagditetiy Maiy, the mother of James, and Maty 9alome, between the etts- tie and the gate of Mount Sien.

3. The house of 8lmon the Pharisee, where Magdalen contoe- ed her sins. Hef«, in the eastern part of the tHy, is a chordi totally in ruins.

4>. The monastery of St. Anne, tiie mother €jf the Blessed Tir- gin, and the grotto of the immaculate eoneeption, undè¥ the church of the monastery. TMs^ conyent has been turned into • mosque, but admission may be obtained^r a triffifcig sum.

5. The prison of St PMer, near Calvary. This consists of nothing but old watts, in 'ffhlch are yet shown some iron staples*

6. IBebedee's house, situated rety near St. Peter^s prison ; now a spacious church belonging to the Greek patriarch.

7. The house of Mary, the mother of John Mark, where. 8t. Peter took refuge when he had been set at liberty by tile angel. It is a church, the duty of which is performed by the Syrians.

S. The place^ of the martyrdom of St. James the Great. Tins is tilie Armenian conrent, the church of which Is very ridi and elegant Of the Armenian patriarch I shaH speak hereafter.

The reader has now before him a complete Ttew of the Chris- tian monuments in Jerusalem. Let us next visit iÊt» exterior of the holy city.

If took me two hours to get throu^ the Via IkkroBa on f»et I made a point of daily revisifnig this sacred road as weR as flie church of CJalvarf, that no essential circumstance nright escape •my memory. H was, therefore, two o'clock on the 7th of Octo- ber wiien I finished my first survey of the holy pfatces. I then mounted my horse with Alt Aga, the drogman, Blichael'aBd my servants. We went out by the gate of Jaffii, to make the com- plete dfcirît of Jennsdem. We were abundantly provided with arms, dressed in ike Plreneh ftshioni and fully 4eteraiined not to


êù rmûL Thtnks to the remnwa of our YktorieB, flw ariB greatly altered; for» during tlie reigii of Louis XllI» hm mmhaamûMf DeshaireB, had the greatest difficulty in the world, to obtain permisaton to enter Jerusalem with his sword. ' Turning to the left as soon as we had passed the gate, we pro- ceeded sottUiward, and passed the Pool of Beersheba, a broad, ^eep ditch, but without water; and then ascended Mount Sion, ynrt of vdiich Is now without the city.

The name of Sion doubtlcM afrakei^i gvand ideas in the mind of the reader, who is curious to hear something concerning this monsat, so mysterious in scripture, so highiy celebrated in Solo- anoB'a Song-*-this mount, the suli^ject of the benedictions or of the tears of the prophets, and whose misfortunes have been sung Vy Raeiiia*

Tfalfl hill, of ay^owish colour and barren appearance, open in torm of a crescent towards Jerusslem, is about as hig^ as Mont- martre at Paris, but rounder at the tap. This sacied summit is distingittshed by three monuments, or more* properly by three fulna : the house of Caiaphas, the place where Christ celebrated Us k»t supper, and the tomb or palace of Dayid. From the top of the hill you see, to the south, the Falley of Ben-Hinnon ; be- yond this the Field of Blood, purchased with the thir^ pieces of ^yer given to Judas, the Hill of Evil Counsel, the tombs of the judges, and the whole desert towards Hebron and Bethlehem* To the noKb, the wall of Jerusalem, which passes over the top of Sion, intercepts the view of the city, the site of which gradn* ally stopes from this place towards the yalley of Jeheshapbat.

The reâdenee of Caiaphas is now a church, the duty of which is perCbrmed by the Armeniaiis. David's tomb is a smaU vanit- edroom, containing three sepulchres of dark-cotoured stone; apul on the spot where Christ held his last cupper, stand a mosque and a Turidsh hospital, formerly a church and monastoiy occu- ^ed by the fiithera erf the fio^ Land. This last sanctuary is ei|ualfy celebrated in the Old and in the New Testament Here Oavid built himseif apalace and a tomb ; here he kept Sot three snenOis Che ark of the covenant ; here Christ held his last passo- vsr^ and Inslitttted the sacrament of the Bocbsrist; here be ap- peared to his diseq»los on the day of his resurrection; and here

  • eHol|rCBKMideeeenAedotttheaposaes« The place haHowfd



> Toi done <|iyi| celebrant lei merveilles des cientf Prends loin de iHelioon un vol audacieux Soit que te retenant sous ses palmiers antiques, Sioi» aTee plaisir répète tes cantiques, 8oii que ohMitast où Dieu douoa sa loi, Le Siua sous tes pieds tressaille encor d'effroi; Soit que près dn saint lieu d'où partent tes oracles lies flots de Siloe te disent ses miracles : Mfiae sùote, soutiens mon toI présomptueux ! y

Some relate that thU spring Buddeniy iesued from the gromid to allay the thirst of Isaiah when the prophet was sawed in two wit]] a wooden saw by the command of Manasses ; while others assert that it first appeared during the reign of Hesekiah, by whom we have the admirable song, beginning ; ^ I said in the cvt* ting off of my days I shall go to the gates of the grave.

Acc(vding to Josephns, this miraculous spring flowed for file snny of Titus, and refused its waters to the guilty Jews.' The pool, or rather the two pools of the same name are qnite elose to the spring. They nre still used for waging linen as for- ■aerly; and we there saw some women, who ran away abus- ing as. The water of the spring is braekish, snd has a rery dis- agreeable taste ; people still bathe their eyes with it, in memoty «f the miracle performed on the man born blind.

Near this spring is shown the spot where Iswah was put to death, in the manner mentioned. Here you also find a Tillage ealled Siloan ; at the foot of this Tillsi^ is another ibuntiun, de- nominated in Scripture, Rogel. Opposite to this fountain is a third, which receires its name from the Blessed Virgin: It is conjectured that Mary came hither to fetch water, as the daugh< ters of Laban resorted to the well from wliich Jacob remov- ed the stone. The Virgin's fountain mingles its stream with that of the fountain of Siloe.

Here, as St. Jerome remarks, you are at the foot of Mount Moria, under the walls of the Temple, and nearly opposite to the 8terquilinarian Gkite. We advanced to the eastern angle of the wall of the city, and entered the valley of Jehoshaphat It runs from north to south between the Mount of Olives and Mount Moria; aatd the brook Cedron flows through the middle of it. This stream is dry the greatest part of the year, but after storms,

or in rainjr epringfl, a current of a red eolour rolls along ita cbamfel.

The yallej- of Jehosfaapbal is also called in scripture the YsJIey Scaveh, the King's Valtey, the Valley of Melchisedeck.* It was in the valley of Melchisedeck that the king of Sodom went to meet Abraham, to congratulate him on his victory over ihe five kings. Moloch and Beelphegor were worshipped in this same val- ley. It was afterwards distinguished by the name of Jehoshaphat, because that king caused his tomb to be constructed there. The valley of Jehoshaphat seems to have always served as a burial- place for Jerusalem : there you meet with monuments of the most r^ttote ages, as well as of the most modem times : Thither the Jews resort from flie four quarters of the globe to die : and a foreigner selb them, for its weight in gold, a scanty spot of earth to cover their remains in the land of their forefa^ers. The ce- dars that Solomon planted in this valley ,f the shadow of tiie lemple by which it was covered, the stream flowing through fhe midst of it,| the mournful songs composed there by David» and tibe lamentations tiiere uttered by Jeremiah, rendered it att appropriate situation for the melancholy and the silence of the lombs. Christ, by commencing his passion in tiiis sequestered place, consecrated it anew to sorrow. Here tiiis innocent David died tears to wash away our crimes, where the guilty David

  1. ept to expiate his own sins. Few names awaken in the imagin-

atkin, ideas at the same time more affecting and more awful than that of the valley of Jehoshaphat, a valley so replete with^ nkfBteries, dial, according to the prophet Joel, idl mankind shall Aiere appear before a formidable judge : ^ I will gaUier all na- tions, and will bring them down into the valley of Jehoshaphat,. and will plead with them there. — ^It is reasonable," says

  • Ob tiH9 sQbjeAt different opûiions are entertained. The King's VaUey -wa»*

probably towards the moantains of Jordan ; and that situation would be more consonant with the history of Abraham.

t Josephus relates that Solomon caused the moantains of Judea to be c««  Tered wiUi cedar».

i Cedron is a Hebrew word, which signifies darkness and sorrow. It is re- marked that there is an error in the gospel of St. John, who ealls this stream the Brook of Cedars. The error arises from au ome^a being put instead of a» •misron : m^^v for * if fir :

900 tftAVELS W akEXtE, ÏALESTlNjBi

Father Nau, that the honour of Christ should be pubfieldy retrieved m the place where it was taken from him by such op- probrious and ignominious treatment, and that he should judge men with justice, where they judged him so unjustly/*

The ralley of Jehoshaphat exhibits a desolate appearance: the west side is a hi^ chalk cliff, supporting the walls of the city, above which you perceive Jerusalem itself; while the east side is formed by the Mount of Olives and the Mount of Offence, Mons OffenManiSy thus denominated from Solomon's idolatry. These two contiguous hills are nearly naked, and of a dull red co- lour. On their desolate sides are seen here and there a few black and parched vines, some groves of wild olive-trees, wastes covered with hyssop, chapels, oratories, and mosques in ruins. At the bot- tom of the valley you discover a bridge of a single arch, throwB across the channel of the brook Gedron. The stones in the Jews' cemetery look like a heap of rubbish at the foot of the Mount of Offence, below the Arabian village of Siloan, the pal- try houses of which can scarcely be distinguished from the sur* rounding sepulchres. Three antique monuments, the tombs of Zachariah, Jehoshaphat, and Absalom, appear conspicuous amid this scene of desolation. From the dullness of Jerusalem, whence no smoke rises, no noise proceeds; from the solitude of these hills, where no living creature is to be seen: from the ruinous state of all these tombs, overthrown, broken, and half open, you would imi^ne that the last trump had already sounded, and that the valley of Jehoshaphat was about to render up its dead.

On the brink, and near the source of Cedron, we entered the garden of Olivet. It belongs to the Latin fathers, who purchased it at their own expense, and contains eight hirge and extremely ancient olive-trees. The olive may be said to be immortal, since a fresh tree springs up from the old stump. In the citadel of Athens was preserved an olive-tree, whose ori^ dated as far back as the foundation of the city. Those in the garden of Olivet at Jerusalem, are, at least, of the time of the Eastern Empire, as is demonstrated by the following circum- stance. In Turkey, every olive-tree found standing by the Mussel- mans when they conquered Asia, pays oue medine to the treasu- ry : while each of those planted since the conquest is taxed half

à^m. Alb ba&Aart. pdl

its piodface by the Grand Siguior * Now the éi^f ôfive-freea of « firhich we are speaking are charged only eight meduie& ' At the entrance of this garden we alighted from oitr horses, and proceeded on foot to the stations of the Mount The village of Qethsemane was at some distance from the gardeA of Olivet. It is at present confounded with this garden, according the re* mark of Thevenot and Roger. The first place we visited was the sepulchre of the Virgin' Mary : it b a subterraneous church to. which yoa descend by a handsome flight of fifty steps ; H is «bared by all the Christian sects, nay, even the Turks have an oratory in this place, but the Catholics possess the tomb of the Virgin. Though Mary did not die at Jerusalem', yet, according to the opinion of several of the fathers, she was miraculously bu- ried at Gethsemane by the apostles. Euthymius relates the his» tory of this marvellous funeral. St. Thomas having caused the coflin to be opened, nothing was found in it but a virgm robe» the simple and mean garment of that queen of glory, whom the angels had conveyed to beavené

The tombs of St Joseph, 8t Joachim, and St Anne, are also to be seen in this subterraneous church.

On leaving the Virgin's sejnilchre, we went to see the grotto m the garden of Olivet, where our Saviour, sweated blood as he uttered the wordd : Father if it be possible, let this cup pasa from me."

This grotto is irregular: altars have been erected in it A few paces fhim it is shown the place where Judas betrayed his toaster with a kiss. To what multifarious sufferiJkgs was Christ pleased to submit! He experienced those most painful circum- stances of life, which virtue itself is scarcely able to surmount. At the moment when an angel is obliged to descend from hea- ven to support the Deity, sinking beneath the weight of human wo, this gracious and compassionate Redeemer is betrayed by one of those from whom he sufiers !

^ No sooner," says Massillon, ^ has the spotless soul of the Saviour undertaken the arduous task of our reconciliation, than

  • This law Û as absurd as roost of the other lavs of Turkey. How ridieolous

f^inake ashaw of sparing the Tanquisbed in the moment of conquest, wlien vio- >eQee,^iiig hand jn \^g^ ,,rith injostioe, can OTerwheltn the subject in time of profound peace.

S 8 .


ibejiiificeof his Father be^uis to eonsider him as a aiafo! He ceases to regard him as hia bek>Ted SoOi in whom he is well pleased : he sees in him nought hut a victim of wrath, laden with tiie iniquities of the world, which efterpal justice compels Wm to sacrifice to the utmost sererity of his vengeance. Here all the weight of that justice begins to fall on his pure and innocent sonlf hero Christ, like the real Jacob, haa to struggle all ni^t i^ainst the wrath of CU>d himself; and here Idb sacrifice is con- summated beforehand, but in a manner ao much the more pain- ful, as his sacred soul is readjr to expire, as it were, under the strokes of the justice of an ofiended God, whereas on CSalvary it was doomed to be consigned oo^ to the power aad the fuiy of men.

    • The «acted soul of the Saviour, fuU of grace, of tnitli, and

of light, beholds sin in all its hocnnrs : beholds its excesses^ Uh justice,, and everlasting stain ; behoEda all ita deplorable conse- quences, pride, corruption, all the passions that have sprung from this fatal source, and inundated the world» In tUs ago- nizing moment, all the i^s of time marshal themselves in dread array against him, from the blood of Abel to the fiaal eonsom* mation of all things ; he behohls an uninterrupted succession of crimes; he peruses tbb frightful history of the universe, and no- thing escapes that can aggravate the secret horrors of his suf* ferings. He there observes the most enormous superstition» established among men; the knowledge of his fether effaced; infamous crimes erected into divinities ; temples and altars raised to adultery, incest, abominationB of every kind; impiety and irreligion embraced b^ the wisest and the most moderate. If he turns to the ages of Christianity, he there discerns tlie f uturo calamities of his church ; the schisms, the errors, the disseasionBr destined to rend asunder the exquisite mysteiy of its unity; the profanation of his altars ; the unworthy use of the sacraments; the extinction almost of his faith ; and the polluted manners of PagUL- ism re-established among his disciples.

" His sacred soul, unable to endure the %veight of Us suffer* inp, but yet retained in his body by (he rigour of divine justice : sorrowfiA unto death, yet not permitted to die; incapable alike of terminating his woes, and of supporting them; seems toi stmggie in the excess of bis ajj^ny both with death and wttk


GTe; and tweat^ like drops of blood, falling down upon th^ ground, IB the fearful effect of his excruciatii^ pangs. Just Father! and was it necessary that blood should be added to the inward sacrifice of thjr Son ? was it not enough that it was destin- ed to be spilt by his eneniies ? but must thy justice, to be satisfied, accelerate its e£fiision ?'*

On leaying the grotto of the Cup of Bitterness^ and ascending by a nigged winding path, the drogman stopped us near a rock, where it is said that Christ, sunreying the guilty city» bewailed tile approaching desolation of Sion. fiaronius observes that Tir tus pitched his tents on the very spot where our Saviour had predicted the destruction of Jerusaleni. Doubdan, who contests this opinion, without mentioning Baronius, conjectures that the sixth Roman le^on encamped on the top of the Mount of Olives, and not on the side of the hiil. This criticism is too ri- gid, and the reraaric of Baronius is not the less excellent, or the less just

The destmcûon of Jerusalem, foretold and lamented by Jesus Christ, is a subject of sufficient importance to demand some no- tice. Let us hear what is said by Josephns, who was an eye-wit- ness of this event. The city being taken, a soldier set fire to the temple. " While the flames were thus consuming this magnifi- cent structure, the soldiers, eager after plunder, put to death all that fell in their way. They ^ared neither age nor rank ; the old, as well as the yonng; priests, as well as laymen, were put to the edge of the sword. All were involved in the general carnage, and those who had recourse to supplication, were not more hu- manely treated than such as had the courage to defend them- selves to the last extremity. The groans of the dyin^ were in- termingled with the crackling of the flames, which continued to gain ground ; and the conflagration of so vast an edifice, together with the height of its situation, led those who beheld it at a dis- tance, to suppose that the whole city was on fire.

" It is impossible to conceive any thing more dreadful'^than the noise which rent the air in every quarter : for how tremen- dous was that aîlone raised by the Roman legions in their fury ; what dirieks did the rebels set up when they found themselves surrounded on all sides with fire, and sword ! what lamentationa '^ajpaped those miserable wretches, who happened just then to be


in the tçmple, and were so terrified as to throw fliemBelreB, m their flight, into the midst of their enemies ! and how was the aif rent by the discordant shouts of the moltitude, who, from the hill opposite to the temple, beheld this awful spectacle ! Even those yrhom famine had reduced to such extremity, that the hand of death was ready to close their eyes foreyer, on perceiving Um conflagration of the temple, mustered their rein^ning strength to deplore so extraoniinary a calamity; and the echoes of the neighbouring hills, and of the country beyond the Jordan, aug- mented this horrible uproar : but, frightful as it was, the miseries which it occasioned were infinitely more so. Such was the mag- nitude and violence of the conflagration, that the hill upon which the temple stood, seemed to be on fire to its very foundation. The blood flowed in such abiindance» that it appeared to dispute with the flames which should extend £arthest. Thp number of the slain su^aseed that of those who sacrificed them to their ▼engeance and indignation : the ground was covered with car- eases, and the soldiers walked oyer them to pursue by so hideous a path those who fled*

" Four years before the commencement of the war, whep Jerusalem yet enjoyed profound peace and abundance, Jesus the son of Ananias, who was but a peasant, having come to the feast of tabernacles, held every year in the temple in honour of God, cried : ^' A voice from the east ; a voice from the west ; a voice from the four winds ; a voice against Jerusalem, and against the f cmple ; a voice against the bridegroom and against the bride ; a voice against all the people !" And he never ceased, night and day, to run through the whole cit}% repeating the same thing, ^ome persons of rank, unable to endure words of such bad omen, caused him to be apprehended, and severely scourged. But, at every stroke that was inflicted, he repeated, in a plaintive am) doleful voice ; " Wo I wo to Jerusalem !?' When Jerusalem was besieged, his predictions were found to be verified. He then went round the walls of the city, and again began to cry : " Wo ! wo to the city ! wo to the people ! wo to the temple !" on which, having added,- " Wo to myself !"— a stone, discharged by a ma- chine, struck him to aie ground, and, uttering the same words» h^ gave up the ^ost."

Prom the rock of the Prediction, we ascended to some grot- |06 on the right of the roadl They are called the Tombs of the» Prophets ; they hare nothing worthy of notice, neither, mdeed, is it known exactly what prophets they were whose remains are here deposited.

A little aboye these grottos we found a kind of reservoir, con- sisting of twelve arches. Here it was that the apostles composed the first symbol of our faith. While the whole world adored in the face of heaven a thousand scandalous divinities, twelve sin- ners, secreted in the bowels of the earth, drew up the profession of faith for mankind, and acknowledged the unity of God the creator of those orbs, in whose light they durst not yet proclaim , his existence. Had some Roman of the court of Augustus, pas- sing near this subterraneous retreat, espied the twelve Jews com- posing this sublime {Hece, what profound contempt he would have expressed lor this superstitious assembly! with what disdain ^ould he have spoken of these first believers! And yet these were destined, by the divine wisdom, to overthrow the temples of this haughty Roman, to destroy the religion of his forefathers, to change the laws, the politics, the morals, the reason, nay, even the very thoughts of mankind. Let us, then, never despair of the conversion of nations I The Christians of the present day deplore the lukewarmness of the fsdth ; but who knows whether God may not have sown, in some unknown recess, the grain of Binstard-seed destined to spread over tiie iace of the earth. Per- haps this hope of salvation may be at this moment before our eyes, without attracting our notice. Perhaps it may appear to us equally absurd and ridiculous. Who could ever have been ex- pected to believe in the foolishness of the cross ?

You now ascend a little higher, and come to the ruins, or father to the naked site, of a chapel. An invariable tradition records that in this place Christ recited the Lord's Prayer.

    • A nd it calne to pass, that as he was praying in a certain

place, when he ceased, one of his disciples said unto him, Lord, teach us to p ray as John also taught his disciples. And he said mito them. When ye pray, say : " Our Father which art in Hea- ven," &c.*

• St. Lake, xi. 1.

9M noLkwmvB nr crmEEcSi vileitiwi

Ttos (he proi^salon of fiiith of ail mankind, and the univend prayer, vrere composed nearly on the same spot.

Thirty paces farther, bearing a little towards the north, is an oliYe*tree, at the foot of which the Son of the Eternal Arbiter foretold the general judgment

^ Then," says Massillon, whom I have already quoted, ^ will he seen the Son of Man, aloft in the air, overlooking the nations of the earth intermingled and assembled at his feet ; surreying^ in this spectacle, the history of the unirerse, that is of the pas- flioDB or the virtues of men. Then will he call together his elect fton the four winds ; he will choose them from all tongues, and kindreds, and nations ; collect the children of Israel, scattered over the universe ; display the secret history of a new and holy people ; and crown with glory heroes of the faith before unknovm to the world. Then will he no longer distinguish ages by the victories of conquerors, by the creation or the decline of empires, hy the civilization or the barbarism of the times, by the great men who have made their appearance in each ; but by the various triumphs of his grace, by tlie silent victories of the righteous over their passions, by the establishment of his reign in a heart, hy the heroic fortitade of a persecuted believer.

  • ^ The universe being thus arranged ; all the nations of the

•arth being thus separated ; each being immoveably fixed in his allotted place : surprise, terror, confusion, despair, will be stamp- ed on the faces of some ; on those of others, joy, serenity, and confidence. The eyes of the righteous will be raised towards the Son of Man, from whom they expect their deliverance ; those of the wicked frightfully rivetted on the earth, almost penetrating its abysses, as if in quest of the place assigned for their future residence.*'

Lastly, proceeding about fifty paces farther on the mountain, you come to a small mosque, of an octagonal form, the relic of a church formerly erected on the spot from which Christ as- cended to heaven after his resurrection. On the rock may be discerned the print of a man's left foot ; the mark of the right also was formerly to be seen ; most of the pilgrims assure us that the Turks removed the latter, and placed it in the mosque of the temple, but father Roger positively declares that it is not there. I am silent, out of respect, without however being convinced.


kelbre Mthorities of considerable weight ; St Angusttiie» St Je- nome, St Pauiina, Sulpicius, Severu», the veDerable Bed^, aU èraveUers, ancient and modern, aisare us that this i» a print, of the foot of Jesus Christ From an examination of this print, il has been concluded that our Saviour had his face towards th«  north at the moment of his ascension, as if to renounce the south, involved in errors, and to call to the faith barbarians, destined to overthrow the temples of false gods, to create new nation» and In» plant the îitandard of the cross on the walls of Jerusalem.

Several fathers oi the church were of opinion, that Christ as- cended to heaven, attended by the souls of the patriarchs and prophets, delivered by him from the chains of death : his mottier, and one hundred and twenty disciples, witnessed his ascensiott» He stretched out hi» arms like Moses, says St Gregory Natt- anzen, and commended his disciples to his Father ; he then creel- ed hi& almighty hands, holding them down over the the heads of his beloved friends,^ in the same attitude that Jacob blessed iûa son Joseph : then rising from earth with inexpressible nugesty, he slowly ascended towards the eternal mansions, till he was en- veloped by ft brilliant cloud^f

St Helena caused a church to be erected on file Bipoi wher«  now stands the octagonal mosque. St Jerome Informs us âiat it was found impossible to cover m that part of the roof throng which Christ pursued his heaven-ward route. The venerable Bede declared that in his time, on the eve of the ascension, the Mount of Olives was all night seen covered with flames^ No- thing obliges us to give credit to these traditions, which I record merely îq illustration of history and^anners ; but if Descartea or Newton had doubted of these miracles as philosophers, Racine and Milton would notliave rejected them a» poets.

Such is the gospel history explained by monuments. We have Ken it commence at Bethlehem, proceed to the denoumerU at the mauMon of Pilate, arrive at the catastrophe on Calvary, and con- chide ott\he Mount of Olives. The very spot of the ascension b not quite on the top of the Mount, but two or three hundred paces below ita highest summit. Bossuet ha& comprised this whole his^ tory in a few pages, but those pages are sublime.

    • IfeanwMle, the jealousy of the Pharisees and priests burriet

f T«rnm. t Lodolpli,


him on to an ignominious death ; he is forsaken by his disciple»; betrayed by one of them, and thrice denied by the first and most zealous Of their number. Being accused before the council, he to the last pays respect to the priestly office, and replies in precise terms to the high priest, who judicially interrogates him. The pontiff, and the whole council, condemn Jesus, because he decia* red that he was the Christ, the Son of God. He is delivered to Pontius Pilate, the Roman gOYcmor ; his innocence is acknow- ledged by his judge, who is induced, by policy and interest, to act against his conscience. The just is condemned to die ; and the greatest of crimes gives occasion to the most perfect obedi- ence that ever was. Jesus, though master over his own life, and all things that exist, voluntarily consigns himself to the fury of wicked men, and offers this sacrifice which is to atone for mankind. When on the cross, he consults the prophets what he has yet left to do ; he fulfills it^ and at length says. It is finished !

" At these words, the whole face of things la changed in the world ; the law ceases, types become obsolete ; and sacrifices are abolished by a more perfect oblation. This done, Christ empires with a loud cry; all nature is convulsed; the centurion who guards him, astonished at such a death, exclaims : Verily, this is the Son of God ! — and the spectators return, smiting their breasts. Gn the third day, he rises again; he appears to his disciples, who had forsaken him, and who obstinately refused to believe Uie ac- count of his resurrection. They sec him, they converse with him, they touch him, and are convinced.

" On this foundation, twelve sinners undertake to Convert the whole world, which they find so hostile to the laws which they have to prescribe, and the truths which they have to announce to it. They are enjoined to begin with Jerusalem, and thence to proceed to all the world, to instruct all nations, and to baptize them in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost. Jesus promises to be with them always, even unto ^e end of the world ; and by this expression, assures the perpetual duration of the ecclesiastical ministry. Having said this, he ascends to hea- ven in theiv presence."

We descended the Mount of Olives, and again mounting our horses, continued our excursion, Wc left the valley of Jeho-


ihaphat behind us, and proceeded by a steep road to the north- ern angle of the city : tlien turning to the west, and keeping along the wall that faces the north, we reached the grotto where Jere- miah composed his Lamentations^ We were not far from the Sepulchres of the KingSi but we relinquished our intention of seeing them that day, because it was tr)0 late : and returned to the gate of Jaffa by which we had set out from Jerusalem. It was exactly seven o'clock when we arrived at the convent. Our excursion had lasted five hours. On foot if you keep close to the walls, it takes scarcely an hour to make the circuit of Jem- aalem.

On the 8th of October» at five in the morning, attended by Ali Aga, and Michael, the drogman, I commenced my surrey of the interior of the city. Let us here pause, and take a rapid view of its history.

Jerusalem was founded in the year of the world 2023, by the royal priest MeJchisedeck, whu called it Salem, which sig- nifies peace. At that time it occupied only the two hiUs of Horia and Acra.

Fifty yeaiB after its foundation it was taken by the JebusiteS| the descendants of Jebus, a son of Canaan. They erected on Mount Sion a fortress, to which they gave the name of Jebua«  their father. The whole city then received the appellation of Je- rusalem, which signifies vi^on of peace» In Scripture it b always »poken of in very magnificent terms.

Joshua made himself master of the lower town of Jérusalem, in the first year after his arrival in the land of Promise : he put to death king Adonisedeck, and the four kings of Htbr<»n, Jeri- mol, Lachis, and Eglon. The Jebusites still retained possessioa of the upper town, or citadel of Jebus, and kept it till they were driven out by David, 824 years after their entrance into the city of Melchisedeck.

David made additions to the fortress of Jehus, and gave it his own name. He erected also on Mount Sion a palace and a ta- bernacle for the reception of the Ark of (hé Covenant

Solomon enlarged the Holy City. He built the first Temple, the grandeur of which is described in Scripture, and by Josephus the historian, and for which Solomon himself composed such beautiful fajrmns.



Five years after Solomon's death, Sesac, king of Egjrpt, attach' ed Rehoboam, and took and plundered Jerusalem.

It was pillaged one hundred and fifty years afterwards by Joas, king of Israel.

Conquered once more by the Assyrians, Manassefa, king of Ju- dah, was carried away captive to Babylon. At last, during the reign of Zedekiah, Nebuchadnea»ar razed the city to its very foundations, burned the temple, and transported the Jews to Babylon ** Sion was plous;hed like a field," says Jeremiah; and St. Jerome, to describe the solitude of this desolated ci^j says that not a single bird was to be seen flying about it

The first Temple was destroyed four hundred and seventir years, six months and ten days after its foundation by Solo- non, in the year of the world 3613, about six hundred years be- fore Chri«t Four hundred and seventy-scTen years bad elapsed from the time of David to Zedekiab| and the city had been go- verned by seventeen kkigs.

After the seventy y ears' captivity, Zerubbabel begam to rebuild the Temple and the city This work, after an interruption of some years, was successively prosecuted and completed by E&dms and Nehemmh»

Alexander visited Jerusalem in the year of the worid 3583, and offered sacrifices in the Temple.

Ptolemy, the son of Lagus, made himself master of Jerusa- lem : but it was treated with great kindness by Ptolemy Philadel- phus, who made some magnificent presents to the Temple.

Antioèhus the Great retook Jerusalem from the Egyptian monarchs, md afterwards ceded it to Ptolemy Evergetes. And- ochus Epiphanes aga\n plundered the city, and erected in the Temple a statue to the Olympian Jupiter.

The Maccabees restored liberty to their country, and defended it against the kings of Asia.

In an unlucky dispute for the crown, between Aristobulas and Hlrcanos, tbey had recourse to the Romans, who, by the death of Mi tb ridâtes, had become masters of the East. Pompey hastened to Jerusalem, and being admitted into the city, he be- aieged and took the Temple* Cra^sus abstained not from phiii* dering this august monument, which the victorioue Pompey had respected.


HirêaliuSf under the protection of CsBar, had ohtained the supreme authority. Antigonue, the son of Ariatobulus, who had been poisoned by Pompey's partisans made war upon his uncle Hircanusy and applied to the Parthians for assistance. The hit- ter invaded Judea, entered Jerusalem, and carried away Hircanu» into captivity,

Herod the Great, the son of Antipater, a distinguished officer of the court of Hircanus, seated himself, by the favour of the Romansi upon the throne of Judea. Antigonus, thrown by the fortune of war into Herod's hands, was sent to Antony. The last descendant of the Maccabees, the rightful sovereign of Jeru. flilem, was bound to a stake, scourged with rods, and put to death by the coikimand of a Roman citizen.

Herod, now left in undisputed possession of Jerusalem, filled it with splendid edifices, of which I shall speak in another place» It was during the reign of this prLoice that Christ came into the world.

Archeiaus, son of Herod and Mariamne, succeeded his fatheri while Herod Antipas, another son of Herod the Great, became tetrarch of Galilee and Persea. It was the latter who ordered 6t John the Baptist to be beheaded, and sent Christ to Pilate, liiis Herod the tetrarch was exiled to Lyons by Caligula.

Agrippa, a grandson of Herod the Great, obtained the kinf dom of Judea ; but his brother Herod, king of Calcis, possessed all the power over the Temple, the sacred treasures, and the priesthood.

On the death of Agrippa, Judea wns reduced into a Roman province. The Jews having revolted against their masters, Titus besieged and took Jerusalem. During this siege, two hundred thousand Jews perished by famine. From the 14th of April to the 1st of July, in the year 71 of the Christian era, one hnn- dred and fifteen thousand one hundred and eighty dead bodies , were carried out of J^nisalem by one single gate. They ate the leather of their shoes and shields; and were at length reduc* ed to such extremity as to feed upon hay and filth which they picked up in the common sewers; a mother devoured herchild» The besieged swallowed their gold; the Roman soldier, who perceived the action, put to death the prisoners, and then sought tb9 treasure concealed in tiie bowels of those unfortqnatest


Eleven liundreiî thousand Jews perished in iH*» city of Jenm* lem, and two hundred thirty-eijicht thousand four hundred and aixty in the rest of Judea. In (bis calculation I comprehend neither (he women nor children, nor the aged destroyed by famine, seditions, and the flames. Lastly» there were ninety* nine thousand two hundred prisoners of war, some of whom were doomed to labour at the public worlcs, and others reaerred for the triumph of Titus ; they appeared in the amphitheatres of Europe and Asia, and killed one another fbr the amusement of the populace of the Roman empire. Such as had not arttained the age of sexenteen years were piit up to auction with the Wo* men ; and thirty of them were sold for a deifarius. The hlood of the just Jesus was sold for thirty pieces of silver at Jerusaleiil| and the people had cried, << His blood be upon ourselves and upon our children : God heard this wish of the Jews, anil for the last time he granted their prayer, after which he turned away his face from the land of Promisei and chose for him- self another per>ple.

The Temple was burned thirty- eight years after the deaA of CShrifit, so that many of those who had heard the prediction of our Saviour, might also have witnessed its fulfilment.

The remnant of the Jewish nation having again rebelled, Adrian completed the destruction of what Titus bad left standing in an- cient Jerusalem. Oo the ruins of the city of David he erected another town, to which he gat e the name of iBIia Capitofinia : he forbade the Jews to enter it upon pain of death, and caused ttie figure of a hog, n sculpture, to be placed upon the gate lead* |ng to Bethlehem. St. Gregory Nazianzen nevertheless relatesf that the Jews were permitted to enter ^!ia once a year to giro Tent to their sorrows : and St. Jerome adds, that they were for- ced to purchase, at an exorbitant price, the right of shedding tears over the ashes of their country.

Five hundred and eighty five thousand Jews, according to the account of Dio, perished by the sword in this war under Adrian* Prodi.:tou8 numbers of slaves, of either sex, were sold at the ftJrs of Gaza and Membre ; and fifty castles, and nine hundred and eighty-five villages were destroyed.

Adrian built tlie new city precisely on the spot which it oceii* pies at this day; and by a particular providence, as Ooubdai^

B6TPT, AUD BAftlAET* 313

phservee, he indpded Mount Ctlvaiy within the wallt. At the lime of Dioelesian's peneention, the veiy name of Jerusalem was BO totally forgotten, that a martyr having said, in reply to the question of a Roman feo?emor, that he was a native of Jerusai- lem, the latter imagined it to l>e some factions town» secretly erect* ed by the Christians, iowards the conclusion of the seventh century, the city still retained the name of JSlia, as may be seen from the account of the traveb of Arculfe, given by Adamannut^ or that of the venerable Bede.

, Some commotions appear to have taken place in Judea under the emperors Antonius, Septimus 8everuS| and Caraealla. Je- rusalem, transformed in her old age into a pagan city, at length acknowledged the God whom she had rejected. Constantine and his mother overthrew the idols erected upon the sepulchre of our Saviour, and consecrated the sacred scenes by the edifices that are seen still upon them*

In vain did Julian, thirty-seven years afterwards, assemble the Jews at Jerusalem for the purpose of rebuilding the temple* The ipen employed in this undertaking worked with bods, pick- axes, and shovels of silver ; while the women carried away the earth in the skirts of their best garments; but globes of fire issu- ing from the half-excavated foundations, dispersed the labouier% and prevented the accomplishment of the design.

We find a revolt of the Jews under Justinum, in the year of Christ 601. It was also during the reign of thb emperor that the church of Jerusalem was elevated to the patriarchal dignify.

StiJl destined to struggle with idolatiy, and to vaMpnsh fieJse Teligions, Jerusalem was taken by Cosroes, kmg of the Persians, in the year of Christ 61d« The Jews, scattered over Judea, pur- chased, of that prince, ninety thousand Christian prisoners, whom they put to death.

Heraclius defeated Cosroes hi g27| recovered the true cross which the Persian monarch had taken away, and carried it hack to Jerusalem.

Nine years afterwards the chalif Omar, the third in succession from Mahomet, took Jerusalem, after a siege of four months ; and Palestine, |^s well as Egypt, passed under the yoke of the con- qoeror.


Omar was assassinated at Jerusalem in 643. The eslabfisb- ment of sererai dialifats in Arabia and in Syria, the fall of the dynasty of the OoimiadeSy and the eievation of that of the Abas* sides, hiTolTed Judea in troubles and calamities for more than two hundred years.

Ahmed, a Turk, who from being governor had made him9elf ■OTereign of Egypt, conquered Jerusalem In 868 ; but his son haying been defeated by the ebalifs of Bagdad, the Holy Cit^ again returned under their dominion in the year 906 of our era. *

Mahomet ikschid, another Turk, having in bis turn seized the sovereignty of Egypt, carried his arms abroad, aud subdued Jen»* salem in the year of Christ 936.

The F^tamit^s, issuiag from the sands of Cyrene, expelled the Ikschidites from figypt in 968, and conquered several towns in Palestine.

Another Tu^k, named Ortc^, favoured by the Seljucides of Aleppo, made himself master of Jerusalem in 964, and his chil- dren reigned there after his death.

MoBtali, chalif of Egypt, drove tiie Ortokides out of Jem- sdem.

Hakem or Haquen, the successor of Asts, the seeond Patamfite cbaKf, persecuted the Christians at Jerusalem about the year 996, as 1 have already related in the account of the church of the Holy Sepulchre, and died in 1021.

Meleschah, a Seljncide Turk, took the Holy City in 1076, and ravaged the whole coantry. The Ortokides, who had been ex* pelled from Jt^rusalem by the chalif Mostali, returned thither, and maintained posreseion of the city against Redouan, prince of Aleppo. They were a&raiu driven out in 1076 by the Fatamites, who were masters of (he place when the Crusaders appeared on the frontiers of Palestine.

The writers of the eighteenth century have taken pains to re- present the Crusados in an odious light. I was one of the first to protest against this ignorance or injustice.* The Crusades were not mad expeditions; as some writers have affected to call them, either in th**ir pritK.iple or in their results. The Christians were not the aggressor^. If the subjects of Omar, setting out lirom Jerusalem, and m;iki:ur the circuit of Africa, invaded Siellji

  • In the Genie du VhrUHamsmç*

Spailii nay, eveii France» where they were exterminated bjr Charles Martel, why should not the subjects of Philip I. quitting France, making the circuit of Asia, to take vengeance on the de- scendants of Omar in Jerusalem itself! It was certainly a grand spectacle exhibited by these two armies of Europe and Asia, inarching in opposite directions round the Mediterranean, and proceeding under the banner of their respecâye religions, to attack Mahomet and Christ in the midst of their votaries. Those who perceive in the Crusades nothing but a mob of armed pil- gnoia running to rescue a tomb in Palestine, must take a very iimited view of history. The point in question was not merely the deliverance of that saared tomb, but likewise to decide whick of the two should predominate in the world, a religion hostile to civilization, system atically favourable to ignorance, despotism, and slavery, or a religion which has revived among the modems the spirit of learned antiquity, and abolished servitude. Who' ever reads the address of pope Urban II. to the council of Cler- mont, must be convinced that Uie leaders in these military en- tefpriaea had not the petty views which have been ascribed to them, and that they aspired to save the world from a new mmt^ dalion of barbarians. The spirit of Islamism is persecution and conqueat ; the gospel, on the contrary, inculcates only toleration and peace. Accordingly, the Christians endured for seven hun- dred and sixty-four years all the oppressions which the fanaticism of the Saracens impelled them to exercise. They merely endea. Toured to interest Charlemagne in their favour; for neither the eenqueat o( Spain, the invasion of France, the pillage of Greece and the two Sicilies, nor the entire subjugation of Africa, could, Ibr near eight centuries, rouse the Christians to arms. If at last the flbneks of numberless victims slaughtered in the east ; if the progress of the barbarians, who had already reached the gates of Ceostantinople awakened Christendom, and impelled it to rise in ito own defence, who can say that the cause of the holy wars was unjust ? Contemplate Greece, if you would know the fate of a people subjected to the mussulman yoke. Would those who, at this day, so loudly exult in the progress of knowledge, wish to live under a retigion which burned the Alexandrian library, and which makes a merit of trampling mankind under foot, and holding literature and the arts in sovereign contempt ?


The Crusades, by weakening Che Mahometan hordes in the verj eentre of Asia, prevented our falling a prey to the Turks aud Arabs : they did more, they saved us from our own revolutions ; they suspf^nded, hj the peace of God, our intestine wars ; and opened an outlet to that excess of population which, sooner or later, occasions the ruin of states.

With regard to the other rei^iiltB of the Crusades, people begin to admit that these military enterprises were favourable jto the progress of science and civilissation. Robertson has admirably discussed this subject in his HhlorUai DUquiMion concerning the Kkonkdge which the Ancitntê had qf India* I shall add, that in this estimate we must not omit the renown gained by the Euro- pean arms in these distant expeditions. The time of these ex* peditions is the heroic period of our history, the period which gave birth to the epic poetry. Whatever diffuses a tinge of the marvellous over a nation, ought not to be despised by that very nation. In vain should we attempt to deny that there is a some* thing implanted in our hearts which excites in us a love of gloiy; man is not absolutely made of positive calculations of profit and loss; it would l>e debasing him too much to suppose so. It was by impressing upon the Romans the eternity of their city, that their chiefs led them on to tlie conquest of the world, and spurred them forward to achievements which have gained them everlast* ing renown.

Godfrey appeared on the frontiers of Palestine in the year of Christ 1099. He was accompanied by Baldwin, Eustace, Tan- cred, Raimond de Toulouse, the counts of Flanders and Nor- mandy, TEtoIde, who was the first to scale the walls of Jerusa- lem; Guicher, already celebrated for having cut a lion in two; Gaston de Foix, Gerard de Houssillon, Kambaud d'Orange^ St Paul and Lambert. At the head of these knights went Peter the hermit, with his pilgrim^s staff. The first made themselves masters of Rama; they next entered Emmaus, while Tancred and Baldwin dn Bourg penetrated to Bethlehem. Jerusalem was soon besieged, and at three in the afternoon of the I5tb, or» according to others, the 12th of July» 1009, the standard of Christ waved upon its walls.

1 shall treat of the siege of this city when I come to examine the theatre of the Jerusalem delivered. Godfrey was, by his


brother in arms, elected king of the conquered citf . These were the times in which mere knights sprung from the breach upon the throne ; when the helmet learned to bear the diadem, and the wounded hand, which wielded the pike, was nobly wrap- ped in the regal purple. Godfrey refused to put on his head the brilliant crown that was offered him, declaring that '^ he would not wear a crown of gold where Christ had worn a crown of thorns."

Naplusia opened its gates ; the army of the sultan of Egypt was defeated at Ascalon. Robert, the monk, in his description of this defeat, makes use of the very same comparison which has been employed by J; B. Rausseau, and which, by tiie bye, is bor- rowed from the Bible :

La Palestine enfin, aptes tant de raragaà. Vit fuir ses ennemis, comme on voit les nuages Dans le vague des airs fuir devant l'aquilon.

It 18 probable that Godfrey died at Jaffa, the waU of which he had rebuilt He was succeeded by his brother Baldwin» ^ount of Edessa. The latter expired in the midst of his victo- ries, and in 1118 left the throne to his nephew, Baldwin du Bourg.

Melîsandra, eldest daughter of Baldwin II, married Foulques d'Anjou, and conveyed the kingdom of Jerusalem into her hus- band's family, about the year 1130. Foulques dying in conse- quence of a fall from his horse, was succeeded in 1 140 by his ton Baldwin IIL The second Crusade, preached up by St Ber- nard, and conducted by Louis YII, and the emperor Conrad, took place during the reign of this third Baldwin, who filled the throne twenty years, and left it to his brother Amanry. After a reign of eleven years, Amaury was succeeded by his bob Bald- irin IV.

Saladin now appeared. Unfortunate at first, but afterwards Victorious, be finally wrested the Holy Land from its new mas^ ters.

Baldwin had given his sister Sybiila, widow of William Longue-Ëpëe, in marriage to Guy de Lusignan. The grandees of the kingdom, jealous of this choice, divided into parties. Bald- win IV; dying 1184, left for his heir his nephew Baldwin V,

. U u


the 8on of Sybilla and WURam Longue-Êpée. The young king/ only eight years of age, sunk in I Ï 86 under a fatal disease. Hi» mother SybilJa caused the crown to be conferred on Guy de Lu- fiignan, her second husband. The count of Tripoli betrayed the new monarch, who fell into Saladin's hands at the battle of Ti- berias.

Haying completed the conquest of the maritime towns of Palestine, the sultan laid siege to Jerusalem, and took it in 1188. Every man was obliged to pay ten gold besants ; and, from in- ability to raise this sum, fourteen thousand of the inhabitants firere made dares. SalacBh ^rould not enter into the mosqne of tiie temple, which had been converted into a church by the Christians, tilt he had caused the walls to be washed with rose- water ; and we are tok} by Sanuto that five hundred camels were scarcely able to carry all the rose-water employee on this occa- sion— a story worthy of the east. The soldiers of Saladin pull- ed down a gold cross erected above the Temple, and dragged it througb the streets to the top of Mount Sion, where they broke It in pieces. One church only was spared, and this was the church of the Holy Sepulchre : it was ransomed by the Syrians for a large sum of money..

The crown of this kmgdom, thus siiom of its lUstre, devolved to Isabel, daughter of Baldwin, sister to the deceased SybiJIa, and wife of £ufroy de 'ï'urenne. Philip Augustus and Richard Cœur-de-Lion arrived too late to save the Ho^|r City, but they took Ptoleniais, or St. John d^Acre. Tlie valour of ^chard struck such terror into his enemies, that, long after bb death y when a horse trembled without any visible cause, the Saracens were accustomed to say that he had seen the ghost of the Eng- lish monarch. Saladin died soon after the taking of Ptolemûs : he directed that, on the day of his funeral, a shroud should be carried on the point of a spear, and herald proclaim in a loud voice : " Saladin, the conqueror of Asia, out of all the fruits of his victories, carries with him only this Bhroud."

Richard, Saladin's rival in glory, on leaving Palestine, contriv- ed to get himself imprisoned in a tower in Germany. His con- finerat^nt gave rise to adventures which history has rejected, but which the Troubadours have preserved in their ballads.

£«r9Ty AND «AtBAftT^ 919

la 1S4% Saleh lamael, emir of Danwcusi who was nt wtr with Nedjmeddio» sultan of Egypt, and bad gained possession of Je- rusalem, restored the city to the Latin princes* The sultan sent the KarismÎKiis to hesiege the capital of Judea. They retook it, and slaughtered the inhabitants. They plupdere4 it once n%Qr«  the following year, before they delivered it up to Saleh Ayub, the anccessor of Nedjpeddin.

During these erents, the country of Jerusalem had been trans^ ferred from Isabel to her new husband, Henry, oo^nt of Cham* pagne, and from him to Amaury, brother of l^usignao, to whom she was married ù>r the fourth time. By him she had a son, wha died while an infant. Maiy, daughter of Isabel, and her first hus- band, Conrad, marquis of Montferrat, now became heiress to an imaginary kingdom. She married John, count de Q'ianne, by whom she had a daughter, Isabel, or Yolante, afterwards the wife of the emperor, Frederick II. The latter arriving at Tyre, made peace with the sultan of Egjrpt The conditions of the treaty stipulated that Jerusalem should belong jointly to the Christians and the Musaelmans. Frederick, in consequence, assumed the crown of Godfrey, at the altar of the Holy Sepulchre, placed it on his head, and returned to Europe. It is probable that the Sar» acens did not loiig keep the engagement which they had con* tracted with Frederick, since we find that twenty years afterward» Jerusalem was pillaged by Nedjmeddin, as I have mentioned above. St. Louis arrived in the East seven years after this last calamity. ][t is remarkable, that this prince, while a prisoner in Egypt, beheld the last heirs of Saladiii's fiimiiy butchered before his face.

" The king,** says the Sire de Joinviile, " who was seized with the disease of the East, like those whom he had left, might have escaped, if he had chosen, in his great ships; but he said that he chose rather to die than to desert his men, he therefore began to shout, and call to us to stay. And he pulled us stoutly hy the saddle-bows to make us stop, till lie gave us leave to swim. Now I will tell you the mannier in which the king was taken, as he related it to me himself. I have heard him say that he had left his guards and his divisions of the army, and that he and Mes» sire Geffroy de Sergine had joined Messire Gaultier de Chatilloo, ffrl^o commancled the rear-guard. And the kin^ was mounted PD


a low hone, covered with a silk horee-idoth ; and, aa I bav€ Bince heard hlxa tell, he had none left of all his men at arms but the brave knight Megeire Qeëroy de Sergine, who attended him to a little village, n^tmed Casei, where the king was taken. But be-> fore the Turks could see him, as I have heard him say, Mesdre Credroy de Sergine defended him in the same manner as a good aervant defends his master's face from the flies. For eveiy time the Saracens approached, Messire Geffjtoy laid about him with lusty cifts and thrusts, so that he seemed to exert double his usual strength and bravery.. And in every attack he drove th^m awiiy from the king. In this manner he brought him to Caaeli and there took him into the house of a woman who was a ualiFe of Paris. And they fully expected to see him expire, and had no hopes of his living over that day."

By a freak of fortune not a little astonishing, she had delivered one of the greatest monarchs that France overbad into the hands of a young sultan of Bgypt, the only remaining heir of the great Saladin. But this fortune, which disposes of empires, determined, as it would appear, to display, in one day, her unbounded power and caprice, caused the conqueror to be murdered before the face of the vanquished king.

^' The sultan, who wae yet young, seeing tins, and perceiving the mischief that had been plotted against his person, fled to the high tower which he had near his chitmber, and of which I have spoken already. For his own people had already overthrown all his pavilions, and surrounded the tower in which he had taken refuge. And witliin the tower there were three of his bishops, who had eaten with him, and who wrote to desire that he would come down. And he said to them that he would willingly come down, if they would ensure his safety. They replied tliat they would make him descend by force, and against his will. And presently they threw Greek fire into the tower, which was only made of deal, and linen cloth, as I have said beibre ; and immediately tlie tower was all in a blase. So fine and so sudden a fir« I can as- sure you I never beheld. When the suttan saw that he was pressed by the flames, he went down by way of the meadow which 1 have already mentioned, and fled towards the river ; and one of tile chevaliers of the Hauleqyia struck at him on the bank with a great sword, on which he threw himpelf into t|ie rirer.


Aller him'jumped about nine chevaliers, who killed him in Ad riyer quite dose to our galley. And when the sultan was dead, one of the said chevalierg, whose name was Faracataie, ripped up Ills bodf , and cut out his heart Then he come to the king, M«  hand all covered with blood, and said to him : ' What wilt thou give me for killing thy enemy, who would have put thee to death If he had lived?' And to thii question the good king St. Louie replied not a single word/'

It is certain that the Baharite Mamelukes, after they had em* brned their hands in the blood of their master, entertained, for a moment, the idea of breaking his fetters, and of making thei^ prisoner their sultan ; such was the impression made upon them by bis virtues ! St Louis told the Sire de Joinville that he would have accepted this crown, bad it been decreed him by the Infidels. Noth* lag, perhaps, can afford a better insight into the character of this prince, whose greatness of soul equalled his piety, and in whose bosom religion had not stifled the sentiments worthy of a king.

The Mamelukes changed their mind. Moas AlmansorNuradin AU, and Sefeidin Modfar, successively ascended the throne of Egjrpt, and the famous Bibars Bondoc Dan became sultan in 1263. He ravaged that part of Palestine, which was not under his dominion, and repaired Jerusalem. Kelaoun, the heir of Bondoc Dari, in 1281, drove the Christians from place to place; and his son, Khalil, took from them Tyre and Ptolemais. At length, in 1291, they were entirely expelled from the Holy Land, after they bad maintained themselves one hundred and ninety- two years in their conquests, and reigned eighty-eight at Jeru- salem.

The empty title of king of Jerusalem was transferred to the house of Sicily, by Charles, count of Province and Anjou, bro- ther to St. Louis, who united in his person the rights of the king of Cyprus, and of the princess Mary, daughter of Frederick, prince of Antioch. The knights of St John of Jerusalem, since denominated knights of Rhodes and Malta ; tlie Teutonic knights, Ùte conquerors of the north of Europe, and founders of the king- dom of Prussia, are now the only remains of those Crusaders who struck terror iàto Africa and Asia, and seized the thrones of Jerusalem, Cyprus, and Constantinople.


9ft9i VAVSJba IM Ga££CB) FAI«KST11US»

There are yet persons ^o believe, an the authority of cwr tain trite sarcasms, that the kingdom of Jerusalem was a misera* ble little valley, wholly unworthy of the pompous name with whicb it was dignified. The whole of the sacred Scripture ; the Pagan au- thors, as Hecateus of Abdera, Theophrastus, Strabo himself, Pau< aanias, Dioscorides, Pliny, Tacitqs, Solinus, and Ammianus Ma^ cellinus ; the Jewish writers, as Josephus and the compilers of the Talmud and Mischna; the Arabian historians and geogra* phers, Massudi, Ibn Haukal, Ibn el Quadi, HamdouUah, Abui- leda, Edrisi ; the travellers in Palestine, from the earliest times down to the present day, unanimously bear testimony to the fertility of Judea. The abbé Guenée has discussed these au* tborities with admirable perspicuity and critical skill.* Could it appear surprising, however, if so fruitful a country had become barren after such repeated devastations? Seventeen times has Jerusalem been taken and pillaged ; millions of men have been slaughtered within its walls, and this massacre may be said stil) to continue. No other city has experienced such a fate. This protracted and almost suprenatural punishment announces unex* mmpled guilt — guilt which no chastisement is capable of expia- ting. In this country consigned to the ravages of fire and sword, the uncultivated land has lost that fertility which it derived from human toil ; the springs have been buried beneath heaps of rub- bish ; the soil of the mountains being no longer kept up by the industry of the vine-dresser, has been hurried down into the vallies ; and the eminences, once covered with woods of sycamores, now present to view nought but parched and barren hills.

The account of the kingdom of Jerusalem by the abbé Guenée is worthy of being repeated here. It would be presumption to attempt to recompose a performance whose only fault consbta in voluntaiy omissions. The author, doubtless perceiving it im- possible to comprehend every thing, confined himself to the moat im|>ortant particulars.

" This kingdom," says he, ^< extended from west to east, fironi the Mediterranean Sea to the Desert of Arabia, and, from south to north, from tlie fortress of Darum beyond the river of Egypt, to the river that runs between Berith and Biblos : It therefiEure included, in the first place, the three Palestines, the first of

  • In four memqirs, of wliich lafaall speak presently.

j^TTT, AND BARtoAAT. $2$

WUcb had for ks capital Jerusalem, the seeôûd maritime Cassa* rea, and the third Bethsap, afterwards Nazareth. It compre» bended, moreover, all the country of the Philistines, all Phoe- nicia, with Ûke second and third Arabia, and some parts of the first

'< This state had two chief lords, the one spiritual, the oth^ temporal ; the patriarch was the spiritual head, and the king the temporal ruler.

" The jurisdiction of the patriarch extended over the four archbishoprics^ of Tyre, Cœsarea, Naauireth, and Erak. He had for suffragans the bishop of Lydda and Hebron : on him Were de- pendent also the six abbies of Mount Sion, of the Latin Churchy âke Temple, Mount Olivet, Jehoshaphat, and St. Samuel ; the prior of the Holy Sepulchre, and the three abbesses of Our Lady Ûïe Great, St. Anne, and St. Ladre.

" The archbishops had for their suffragans the following bish-» ops : that of Tyre, the bishops of Berith, Sidon, Paneas, and Ptolemcis ; that of Ossarea, the bishop of Sebaste ; that of Naza- reth, the bishop of Tiberias and the prior of Mount Tabor } that of Krak, the bishop of Mount Sinai.

    • The bishops of St. George, Lydda, and Acre,^ had under

their jurisdiction — ihe first, the two abbies of St. Joseph of An* mathea and St Habbakuk, the two priors of St John the Evan»* gelist €uid St Catherine of Mount Gisart, whh the abbess of the l%ree Shades ; the second, the Trimty and the Penitents.

<^ All these bishoprics, abbies, chapters, and convents of monks ioid nuns appear to have enjoyed veiy large possessions, if w» may judge from the number of troops which they were obligee to furnish for the service of the state. Three orders in particular, at the aame time military and refigious, were distinguished for fiieir opulence ; they had in the country extensive lands, castles, and towns.

'< Beaides the domains which were the property of the king, SB Jerusaiem, Naplusia, Acre, Tyre, and their dependencies, the kingdom contained four great baronies. The first of these com*- prbed the counties of Jaffa and Ascalon, with the tordships of Bamab, Mirabel, and Ybelin ; the second the principality of Ga- fiiee ; the third the lordship? of Sidon, Caesarea and Bethsan ; the feiutb> a» lordships of Krak, Montreal, and Hebron. The coun-



ty of Tripoli formed a separate principality, dependent indeed oft the kingdom of Jerusalem, but distinct from it.

" One of the first cares of the kings was to give a code to their subjectsi Wise men were commissioned to collect the principal laws of the different countries from which the Crusa- ders came, and to form them into a body of legislation, accord- ing to which a^ matters civil and criminal should be decided. Two courts of justice were established ; the upper for the noblesi and the lower for the commonalty. The Syrians obtained thç privilege of being judged by their own laws.

" The different lords, as the counts of Jaffa, the lords of Ybelin, Caesarea, Caiaphas, Krak, the archbishop of Nazareth, &c. had their courts of justice ; and the principal cities, as Je- rusalem, Naplusia, Acre, Jaffa, Cœsarea, Bethsan, Hebron, Ca- dres, Lydda, Assur, Paneas, Tiberias, Nazareth^ &lc. had their municipal courts. These seignorial and municipal courts, to the number at first of t^venty or tliirty of each kind, increased Ja proportion to the aggrandizement of the state.

" The baronies and their dependencies were obliged to fur- nish two thousand horse ; and the cities of Jerusalem, Acre, aiu) Naplusia, six hundred and sixty-six horse, and one hundred and thirteen foot ; tlie towns of Ascalon,,TyTe, Cœsarea, and Tiberiaç^ a thousand foot.

" The churches, bishoprics^ abbies^ chapters, &x. had to find about seven thousand ; that is to say, the patriarch, the church ^f tlie Holy Sepulchre, the bishop of Tiberias, and the abbot of Mount Tabor, five hundred each ; the archbishop of Tyre and the bishop of Tiberias, five hundred and fifty each ; the bishops of Lydda and Bethlehem, two hundred each ; and the others in proportion to their domains.

" The ti'oops of the state altogether formed at first an army amounting to ten or twelve thousand men ; the number was after- wards increased to fifteen thousand; and when Lusignan was defeated by Saladin, his army comprehended near twenty-two tliousand men, all troops of the kingdom.

"Notwithstanding the expenses and losses occasioned by al- most incessant wars, the imposts were moderate, abundancvc reigned in the country, the people multiplied, and the lord» found in their fiefs an indemojocalion for what they had left behind

eStpt, and barbaxt. 32^

m £ffrope ; so that Baldwin du Bourg lûmself did not long re^ .gret his rich and beautiful county of Edessa."

The Christians having lost this kingdom in 1291, the Baharite cultans of Egypt remained in possession of their conquest lill 1382. At this period the Circassian Mamelukes usuiped the su- preme authority in Egypt, and gaye Palestine a new form of go- Temment. If it was these Circassian sultans that established a post by means of pigeons, and relays for carrying the snow of Mount Lebanon to Cairo, it must be allowed that, for barbarians, they were tolerably well acquainted with the luxuries of life. Sç- lim put an end to all these rerolutions in 1517| by the reduction irf Egypt and Syria.

It is .this Jerusalem of the Turks, this seventeenth shadow of the primitive city, that we are now about to examine.

On leaving the convent we proceeded io the citadel. No per- son lyas formerly permitted to enter; but now that it is in rains, you may obtain admittance for a few piastres. D'Ânville proves that this castle, called by the Christians the Castle or Tower of the Pisans, is erected upon the ruins of an ancient fortress of David, and occupies the site of the tower of Psephina. It has nothing remaikable : it is one of those €k)thic fortresses of which specimens are to be found in every country, with interior courts, ditches, covered ways, &ic. I was shown a forsaken hall full of old helmets. Some of these had the shape of an Egyptian cap. I remarked also some iron tubes, about the length and thickness of a gun barrel, but am ignorant of their use. I bargained secretly for two or three of these antiques, but some accident or othejr frustrated the negotiation.

The keep of the castle overlooks Jèrusalen^frMXi west to east, as the Mount of Olives commands a view of it from east to west. The scenery surrounding the city is dreary: on every side are Been naked mountains, with circular or flat tops, several of which, at great distances, exhibit the ruins of towers, or dilapidated mosques. These mountains are not so close as not to leave intervals through which the eye wanders in quest of other pros* peets; but these openings display only a back ground of rocks just as bare and as barren as the foreground.

It was from the top of this tower that the royal prophet de- scried Batbdbteba battông ia the garden of Uriah. The pasûoi»

829 V&AVBM XN (»R:£EOSy ^At«6TINE|

which he coneeired for this woman, afterwards inured him i^itb those magnificent psalms of repentance»

"* O Lord, rebuke me not in thy wrath : neither chasten men

ihjT hot displeasure! Have pity upon me, according 4o the «X*

  • tent of thy mercy !....«.My days are consumed like smohe..*..!

am like a pelican of the wildenie6BM...0ttt of the depths hive I cried to thee, O Lord!

For what reason the castle of Jenisalem is denominaited the tastle of the Pisans, is not known. D^Anville, who forma vaimii lionjectures oa the subject, has oreriooked a very curious paiHagt in Belong

'< 'Whoever would obtain admittance into the sepiilehre,44>* serves that writer, " is obliged to pay nine ducats, and bomMi demandno person, whether rich or poor, is exempted* The fa^ mer of the ttjf. upon the sepulchre pays eight thousand diicatato the sovereign ; which is the reason Why he lays this charge opaa |he pilgrims, who are not allowed to enter pnless it be paid* The 7urks have a great reverence for this place, and enter it with jftO' found devotion. It is said that the Pisans iu>posed this tax of tiine ducats when they were masters of Jerosalem, And tbatUbai been pontimied ever since.

The citadel of the Pisans* was guarded, when I saw it, by a ]dnd of liaif-negro aga. Be kept his women shut up in it, aad lie acted wisely, to judge from their eagerness to show (hemaelves in this dreary ruin. Not a gon was to be seen, and I am doubt- ful whether the recoil of a single piece would not shake aH these fuici'ent battlements into ruins. . « 

Having examined the castle for an ho^r» we left it, and to^ a street which runs eastward, and ia called the street of the Bazar : this is the prmdpal street, and the best quarter of Jemsalem. But what wretcfaedneas, what desolation! We will not encroach Upon the general description. We met with nota creature ; for inost of the inhabitants had fled to the mountains, on the pacha's srri val. The doors of some f<N^aken shops stood open ; through tiiese we perceived small rooms, seven or eight feet square, where the master, then a fugitive, eats, lies, and sleeps, tm the aingle mat (hat composes his whole stock of funiture.

^ From a passage in Broeard, it appears that towards the aonelttiiQa af -the thU'teeatl^ ocaturji i) way a(io deoomiaat^ «?VW9ff<(.

Offihe right ot the Basar, betirâeii the Temple and the foot

of Mount Siotty ve entered the JewB* quarter. Fortified by

their indigence-, these had withstood the attacks of the pacha.

Here they appeared covered ^th rag8> seated in the dust ef

'SioD, seeking the yermin which devoured them, and keeping

their eyes fixed on the Temple* The drogman took me into a

kind of school : I would have purchased the Hebrew Fentateucb^

in which a rabbi was teaching .a child to read: but he refused ix$ ^

' tfipose of the book. It has been observed that the foreign Jewg^

^«rtio fix: their rendence at Jerusalem, live but a short time. Aa

to those of Palestme, they are so poor as to be obliged to sendl

ievery year to raise eOntributions amcmg their brethren in Egypt

and Barbary,

' ' I had commenced a long inqmry concerning the state of the Jews of Jerusalem, from the destruction of that city by Titus till the present time ; and had entered into an important discussion respecting the fertility of Judea; but on the publication of the '-fast volumes of the memoirs of the Academy of Inscriptions, I desisted from my undertaking. In these volumes may be found ibur Memoirs by the Abbé Guenée, which leave nothing more to be wished for on the two subjects which I purposed to treats These fnemoics are real master-pieces of per^ncnity, criticism»' «nâ erudition. The author of the Letters qf same Fortugtiese Jen)8 is one of those writers whose fame^ during his life, was sti* fed by literary cabals, but whose reputation will increase with posterity. To these excellent memoirs I refeir the inqpiaitiva reader; he will easily find them, since they have been recently poblidhed, and are preserved in a collection wiiich is not scarce I pretend not to surpass such masters : I h^ve learned to throw uto the fire the fruits of my studies, and to aeknowiedge the ftoperiori^ of the performances of others.*

  • I might haTe pilbged the Abbé de Guené e's Memoirs without saying à vord

aboQt tbe matter, after the example of namberleaa writers, who pretend to baya derived their information froni the original aooreei, wheathej haTe merely ploa«  ûertà Mholars whose names tbey keep to themsehres. -These frauds are iiow* anlj^a extremely easy ; for in this age of knowledge ignorance is great. People begin to write before they hare read any thing, and this method they pursue as long as they live. The ge nuine scholar heaves a sigh when he beholds this swarm of yOQog mthors, who would perhaps have possessed talents, had they taken the ^ins to study. It should be veooUeeted that Bailcau^'CiulI^ougioilBiaUiç ori^I»


I cannot, however, forbear giving, in this place, a calddaflofi' which formed part of my work: it is made from the Itineraiyof Benjamin of Todela. . This Spanish Jew travelled in the ânr- teenth centmy, to ascertain the state of the Hebrew naton in the known world.* On extracting the numbers given by that writer, I find the sum totaf of Jews in Africa, Asia, and Europe, to be seren hunifired sixty-eight thousand, one hundred and sixty- five. Benjamin, it is true, mentions the Jews of Germany, with- out stating their number, am} he is wholly silent respecting those of London and Paris. Let us take the total amount at one mil- lion of men ; let us add, to this million of men, one mttlion of wo^ men, imd two million children ; we shall then have four millions of souls of Jewish race in the thirteenth century. According to the most probable computation, Judea, properly so called, Ga. ' Rlee, Palestine, or Idumea, contained, in Vespasian^s time, about MX or seven millions of inhabitants, though some authors <&tate the number much higher ; at the siege- alone of Jerusal^n, hj Titus, eleven hundred thousand Jews perished. The Jewish po- pulation, therefore, in the thirteenth century, was reduced to one sixth of what it was before the diapersiom

Though Benjamin has not specified the number of ttie Jews in Germany, he mentions the towns containing their fmnoipal synagogues. These are : Coblents, Andemaphe, Gaub^ Creiita- nach, Beogen, Germershein^ Mnnster, Strasburgh, Hanheim, Freising, Bamberg, Tsor, and Reguespurch. Speald&g of tiie Jews of Paris, he days: In qua safiimtum discipMtunt onmtum qui hodie in omni regione 9unt doctissitm.

Let us continue our survey of JeruBalem* From the Jews' quarter we ^paired to Pttate^l house, to view the mosque of the Temple through one of Uie windows; all Christians being pro- hibited, on pain of death, from entering the court that surrounds this mosque. The description of it I shall reserve until I cmne to tr«at of the buildings of Jerusalem. At some distance from

«nd that Racine knew the Greek Sophocles and Euripide* hy heart God givv us bae^ the ag« of pedants ! Thirty Tadiuaes wUi not do so much ii^juiy to let- ters as one sehooUboj in a doctor's cap.

• It is not, hovever, perfectly clear that Benjamin TÎsited all the places men-, tioned by him ; nay, it is évident, from certain passages of the Hebrew taxl^ that thtt Jewish traveller has,- in varioai instances, only followed oUier works.


"Me pnetorinm of Pilate, we found the pool of Bethesdn, and Herod's palace. This last is a ruin, the foundations of which be- long to antiquity. An ancient Christian hospital, now appropriated to the relief ' of the Turks, drew our attention.* We were here shown an im- mense cauldron; denominated the cauMroo of St. Helena. For- merly, every Mussulman who applied at this hospital, received two small loaves, and a portion of vef^etables dressed with oil ; ' to which, on Fridays, was added rice sweetened with honey, or .grape syrup. Thiè practice k no longer kept up ; scarcely is any jlraee now left of this* evangelical charify, whose emanations were in some measure attached to the walls of this structure. ■f IVaversing the city once more, wo went towards the gate of Sion, when Ali Aga invited me to monnt with him upo&the walls ; tfate drcvgrnan durst not venture to follow us^ I found some old. twenty-four pounders tîxeë upon carriages without wheels, and placed at the embrasures of a Gothic basition. A sentry, who was smoking his pipe in a corner, was going to ruse an alarm. • Ali threatened to tumble him into the ditch if he did not hold his tongue. He remained quiet, and I gave trim a piastre.

The walls of Jerusalem» which I have gone thrice round, form

aa oblong square, the four sides fadng.tfae four winds, and the

longest running from west to east, two points of the compass to

the south. D'Anville has proved by the measures and local po^

  • BiU(ms that ancient Jerusalem was not muck more extensive tha»

the modem city : it occupied nearly the same site, except that

it-comprehended the whole of Mount Sion, but excluded Càh

'▼ary. We must not take in a literal sense the text of Josephus,

,when the historian asserts that the walls oCthe city advanced, to

the north, as far as the sepulchres of the kings: the number of

.stadia forbids such an interpretatioR ; though the waHs may still

be said to be coutiguous to those sepulchres, the distance between

them being .only five hundred paces.

The exterior wall, now standing, is the work of Solyman, the son of Selim,* as is proved by the Turkish inscriptions placed in this wall. It is reported to have been Solyman's design to enclose Mount Sion with the circumvallation of Jerusalem, and that he caused the architect to be put to death; for having deviated


from his orden. These walls^ flanked with squtre IdtreM^ may be, on the platfoim of the bastions, aboot thlr^ feet VbSek, and one hundred and twenty feet high: they have no other ditches than the Tallies surrounding the city. By merely throw- ing up a few gabions, without opening any trenches» youmij^t with six twelve-pounders effect a practicable breach in one night; but it is well known that the Turks defend themselves extrraiely well behind a wall by means of epaulements. Jerusalem is commanded from all sides ; to render it tenable against à regular army, it would be necessary to cooBtract considerable woiin projecting to the west and north, and to build a citadel on the Mount of Olives.

In this heap of rubbish, denominated a city, the people of th^ country have thought fit to give (be appellatioli of streets to eci^ tain desert passages. These divisions are extremely curious, and are «o much the more worthy of notice as they have not been mentioned by any traveller; though the fathers, Hogeè, Nau, &e. name some of the gates in Arabic. I shall begin wiA these latter.

Bab-el-K2aIiI, Ae gate oî the Beloved, opens Uf the west You leave the city by this gate to go to Bethlehem^ Hebron, and fit Jofan^s in the Desert Nau writes Bab-el-Khalil, which he renders Abraham^s gate. By Deshayes it is called the Jaffa Chite, and by other travellers, the gate of Pilgrims, and somefinin the gate of DamMsuft.

Bab-el-Nabi-Dahoud, the gate of the Prophet David, Is to tfte •outh) on the top of Mount Sion, nearly opposite to Davi4^ iomb, uid the scene of the Last Supper. Nau Writes Bab-Sidr- Daod. It is termed the gate of SiOn by Deshayes, Doubdan, Boger, Benard, &c.

Bab-el-Mangrabé, the gate of the Maugrabins, or people of Barbary. It is situated betwe^ the east and south, towards the valley of Annon, nearly at the comer of the Temple, and oppo- site to the village of Sifoan. Nau writes Bab-el*Megarebé. This is the Porta SterquUinaria, through which the Jews led Jesus Christ to JPilate, after they had seized him in the garden of Olives.

Bab-el'Derakie, the Dorean gate : this is to the east, and con* liguous to the court of the temple. The TuTk» have walled it up : they have a prediction that the Christians will aomb time

^v.^her take the dty by this gate. It is conjectured that Christ entered Jerasalem bj this same g;ate on the day when the peo- ple strewed palm-branches before him.

fiab-ei-Sidi-Mariam, the gate of the Blessed Viigin, to the east» «^posite to the Mount of OJives. Nau calls it in Arabic Huetta. All the account» of the Holy Land give/ this gate the name oC ât Stephen! o' Mary, because it witnessed the martyxdom oC ^t Stephenj and leads to. the sepulchre of the Blessed Virgin. In the time of the Jews it was denominated the Gate of Flocks or theSheep^Gate.

-^ Bab-el-Zahara, the Ga(^ of the Dawn» or of the Circle, Cer^

4:hiolino. It looks towards the north» and leads to the grotto <A

4he lamentations of Jeremiah. The best plans of Jerusalem

-^K^e In giying to this gate the name of Ephralm's or Kerod^s

.^te. Cotovic suppresses it entirely» and confounds it with the

"CMe of Damascus. He writes : ForULDamasceiia sive Effraim ;

^ut his plan» too small» and very defective» cannot be compareil

y^th that of Deshayes's, and still less with Shaw's. The plao

  • ii the travels of De Vera thé Spaniard is very fine» but to^

^^owded andinaccurate. Nau has not ^ven the Aratnc name oi

. 5^^ gate of Ephraim» and is perhaps the only traveller who caHi

taf^^ gate of Turcomans. The gate of Ephraim, and the PmrU

-' f^9^*Uinwriaf or Dung Gate, are the two smaller gates of Jern

.oi^^^^'el-Hamond» or Bab^el-Cham, the gate of the Column» oi

._pt^9 ^^^U8, looks towards the north-west» and leads to the se

at^ /^<*ea ^f m^ Jciags» to Naplusia or Sichem» to St John d'Acre

th^ ^^ J^4fjj^0eiMB. Nau writes Babn^- Amend. When Simon

^o fi^'^Ua ***^' Christ bearing the cross he waseoming fron

<^/ç ^'We Q^ /7^ixBascus. The pilgrims formerly entered by thîi

/*^a * ^t^ tlM^y ^^^^ *^y ^** of Jaffa or Bethlehem; and t(

»^^ i^^^e^ ?^-^ ^vriiig that the name of the Gate of Danuiscu

^IjjSj, ^t It ^^^^ . to the Gate of Jaffa, or the PUgrims' GaU

^^a. ^4$ '^^ rt /»«^ ^'^^ y®* ^®^ made, and I here insert it i

^è3l ^û ^^4^/^^ * -J O/ places, ^*»«'»^ onwifttîfinpa ArAAtoa Ynii^l

which sometimes creates mud of travellers. 'V' ^^ *^ ^^^ é^€^^^^ ^ ^^® ^^^\ of the streets. The tbre


Harat-balhel-Hamondy the street of the Gftte of the Colrnân : it crosses the city from north to south.

Souk-el-Kebis, the street of the GrreatBazar^ which runs from east to west.

Harat-el'AlIanii the Fia Dolorosa^ commences at the Vir- gin's Gate, passes the pnetorium of Piiate, and terminates at Calvary*

Beside these, you find seren other small streets :

Harat-el-Mufilmio, the street of the TartLs.

Harat el-Nassara, the street of the Christians, leading from the Holy Sepulchre to the Latin Convent.

Harat-ei-'Asman, the street of the Armenians» \o the east of the castle.

Harat-eI*Youda ^he street of the Jews^ in which are the sliam- iMes of the city.

Harat-bab-llotta, the street near ttie Temple.

Harat-el'Zahara. My drogman translated tliese words by Strada Comparili» I know not exactly what this means. He assured me, moreover, that this street was inhabited by rdffih and widced people*

Harat-el-Marçrab6, street of the Magrabins. These Magrabios, as I have observed, are the people of the west, or of Barbary. Among them are included some descendants of the Moors driven from Spun by Ferdinand and Isabella. These exiles were cha^> ritably received in the holy city ; a mosque was built for their use, and bread, fruits, and money Bté yet distributed among them. The hehrs of the proud Abencerrages, the degant architects of the Alhambra, are become porters at Jerusalem^ who are sought after on account of their intelligence, and couriers esteemed for ibeir swiftness. What would Saladin and Richard say, if suddenly retnming to the world, they were to 0nd the Moorish cham- pions transformed into the door-keepers of the Holy Sepulchre, and the Christian knights represented by brethren of the mendi- cant order ? .

At the time of the visit of Benjamin of Tudela, that is to say, under the French kings of Jerusalem, the city had three parts caclosed by walls, and four gates, which Benjamin denominates Torla Samnua AbrahaSy Porta David^ Porta Sion^ Porta Jehoshor phot. As tQ the three enclosures, they by no means ajgree wUk

vtiÉà^if^ lOMiws mpeclifti^ the toca&âes of Jer««t1em nt the time when tbat oitj was taken by Saladin. Beojamm fooiid ae** Ttnal Jews résident lA that -quarter of the tower of David» where they enjoyed the exetoaive pririlege of dying wool and wopUen «Mil, for whksb they paid a yearly sum to the king.

fineb readers aa are desirous of comparing modem with an«  eient Jerasalem, may refer to O^Anirille's dissertation, tojleland, and to father iMoalDe Samia CivitaU et Tempio.

We returned to the convent about nine o'cleek; After bredc- fhati «enl to pi^ a Tiait to the Greek and Armenian patriaroh», who had sent their salutations by their drogmans.

«Hm Qreek convent adjoins the church of the Holy Sepnkhre. ¥rom the terrace of (his convent you see a spacious enclosoret iB^/wfaicbgpow two or three olive^ trees, a palm tree, and a few cypresses. The* house of the knights of 8t. John of Jerusalem formerly occupied this deserted spot. The Greek patriarch seem* ed to Uk^ to be an excellent man* He was at this moment at mooh harassed by the pacha as the superior of Ui* Saviour's. If» eoBversed about Greece : I inquired . if he possessed any mannscripts, and was shown some rituals and treatises of the fiilb^iiBk Having taken coffee^ and received three or fo,ttr chaplets, I proceeded to the Armenian patriarch*

-The latter^ named Arsenios, was a native of Ciesarea in Cap* padocia; he was metropolitan of Scythopoli, and patriarclml procurator of Jerusalem. He wrote down himself his name and titles in Syriac character» on a card, wliich I still possess. I did not perceive in him that look of suflfering and oppression which I bad remarked in the unfortunate Greeks, who were every where slaimat* The Armenian convent is agreeable, the church delight-* fut, and uncommonly clean* The patriarch, who resembled a rich .Tark, was wrapped in silken robes, and seated on cushions. Here I drank some excellent Mocha coffee : sweetmeats, cold wafeer, and dean napkins were brought me; aloe wood was bnmedy and I was perfumed vrith essence of roses to sudi a degree as to be incommoded by It. Araenios spoke of the Turks wUh coatempt. He assured me that all Asia waa anxiously wait-' ittg the coming of the French ; and that if but a single soldier of my.aation were to appear in his country, the insurrection would- be fgsoionln It is impossible to i^onceive the ferment that aubsitts '


334 TKAXfilA IK 6ESBCB, PjLj[i«STl5K|

in the minds of the people of the eadt* I saw M Aga higbljr exasperated at Jericho against an Arab, who laughed at him, and told him, that if the emperor had chosen to take Jerusalem, he

might hare entered with the same ease ask a camel enters a field

of doura. The nations of the east are much more familiar than we are with the ideas of invasion. They have seen among them all those celebrated men who have changed the face of the globe : Sesostris, Cyrus, Alexander, Mahomet, and the last conqueror .of Europe. Accustomed to follow the destinies of a master, they have no law that attaches them to ideas of political order and moderation: to kill appears to them to be a lawful right of the strongest, and they sjubmit to, or exercbe, it with equal indif- ference. They essentially belong to the sword ; they are fond of all the prodigies which it performs i it is with them the fairy wand which erects and overthrows empires. To liberty they, are stran- gers ; property they have none : power is their god. When they have been long without witnieBsing the appearance of those con- quering executors of the high decrees of heaven, they resemble soldiers without a commander, citizens without a legislator, and a family without a head.

My two visits lasted near an hour. I then went to the church of the IloTy Sepulchre : thç Turk who opens the door had received intimation to be in readiness to receive me. I again paid Mahomet for the right to adore Jesus Christ. I studied a second time, and more at my leisure, the monuments of this venerable church. I went up to the gallery where I met the Coptic monk and the Abyssinian bishop: they are extremely poor, and their simplicity reminds you of the early ages of the gospel. These priests, half savages, with a complexion burned by a tropical sun, having no other mark of their dignity than a robe of blue cloth, and no other shelter than the Holy Sepulchre, touched me much more than the chief of the Greek papas and the Armenian patriarch. I would defy any imagination, however insensible to religious impressions, not to be affected on thus meeting with individuals of so many nations at the tomb of Christ ; on hearing those prayers pronounced in a i^undred different languages, on the very

• ^^. Seetzen, who passed through Jemsnlem a few months before me, and vheisyet travelling in Arabia, says, in a letter to M. Von Zack»that the inhtU- tanls of the eotmtry (tid Qothtpg but talk to bim eoncerniog Uie Freaeb i


spot where the apostles received from the Holf Ghost the gift of speaking in all the tangues of the earth.

At one o'clock I left the H0I7 Sepulchre, and we returned to the convent The pacha's soldiers had taken possession of the hospital, as I have already related, and were living there at free quarters. Going along a corridor with Michael the drogman to my cell, I met two young spahis armed cap-a-pie, and making an uncommon noise: they were not very formidable, for, to the disgrace of Midiomet, they were so intoxicated that they could scarcely stand. As soon as they perceived me, they obstructed my passage, at the %ame time laughing -heartily. I stood still to wait for the conclusion of this sport. So (kt no harm had been dohe; but presently one of these Tartars, stepping behind me, drew my head forcibly back, while his comrade, turning down the collar of my coat, struck me on the neck with the back of his drawn sabre. The drogman began to stammer. I disengaged myself from the hands of the spahis, and catching at the throat of him who had seized me by the bead, with one hand I pulled his beard, and with the other throttled him against the wall, till he was as black as my hat ; on which I let him go, having returned joke for joke, and insult for insult. The other spahi was too full of liquor, and too much astonished at my behaviour, to think of rev.engingthe greatest affront that, can be offered to a Turk, that of taking him by the beard. I retired to my chamber, and pre- pared myself for the worst. The superior was not displeased that I had bestowed a little correction on his persecutors ; but he was fearful of some catastrophe. A humbled Turk is never «hingerous, and we heard no more of the matter.

I dined at two o'clock, and went out again at three with the same little retinue as usual I visited the sepulchres of the kings, and proceeded thence on foot to make the circuit of the city. I stopped at the tombs of Absalom, Jehoshaphat, and Zachariah,ia the valley of Jehoshaphat. I have observed, that the sepulchres of the kings were without the gate of Ephraim towards the north, at the distance of three or four musket shot from the grotto of Jeremiah. Let us now consider the monuments of Jerusalem.

These I divide into six classes: 1. The monument purely Hebrew ; 2. The Greek and Roman monuments of pagan times ; 2s The Greek and Roman monuments of the Christian ages ;


4b The Arabic or Mooridi ; 5. The Gothie mooiuaento imd^r thé French kings; 6. The Turkish monumento.

We will begin with the ârst Of these no traces are now discoverable at Jerasalem, unless it be at the pool of Bethesda $ for I reckon the sepulchres of the kings, and the tombs of Abaa* lorn, Jehoshaphat, and Zachariah, among the Greek «nd Romaa monuments erected bj the Jews.

It is difficult to form any precise idea of the first or even th«  aecond Temple, from the account giTen in the DM Teatament, or the description of Josephu»; but we may perceive two âûngs; that the Jews had a taste for the sombre and tiw grand in the» edifices, like the Egyptians ; and that they were fond of nÙBule details, and highly finished decorationa, both in thedàgravi^gsoii atones, and in the ornaments of wood, bronae, and goU*

Of the first temple Josephus speaks Hi tbefoUowiog tarmac ^ The length of the temple was aixty cubits, its height the same, and its breadth twenty cubits. Upon this edifice waa erecte4 another of the like dimensions, and thus the total height of tba temple was one hundred and twenty cubits. It faced the eaat^ uid its porch was of the like height of one hundred and twenty cubits, twenty long, and six broad. Round the temple weNk thirty chambers in the form of galleries, and these aerved eiitef- Daily as buttresses to support it. Tou passed out of one into an» other, and each was twenty cubits in length, the same in breadth, and twenty in height Above these apartmonts were twoatariea«{ others similar in ail respects to those beneath. Thus the height of the three stories together, amounting to sixty onbita, waa exactly equal to the height of the lower edifice of the temple jtast mentioned, and there waa nothing above. All these apart- ments were covered with cedar, and each had a separate roof, in the manner of a pavilion: but tb^y were oouiected by loqg and thick beams, to give them greater solidity ,- so that th«^ formed altogether but one single body. Their eeiiinga were of cedar, highly polished, and em-iched with gilded foliage, carved in the wood. The rest was likewise eovered with cedwr, so exquisitely wrought and gilded, that it was impossible to enter without beiag dazaled by its lustre. The whole of this inagaificent edifice was of hewn stones, so smooth and so admirably fitted together that the joinings could not be perceived ; but it seemed aa

£6T?T, àNb BIMAET. 337

if nature bad fbrined them thus of t mngle piece, witbont any a«- eistance from art, or the inatrameBtfl employed by skilful masters to embellish tbeir works* In the body of the wall, on the east side, where there was no grand portal, but only two doors, Solomon caused a spiral staircase, of his own mrention, to be constructed Ibr the purpose of ascending to the top of the temple. Both within and without the bailding were vast planks of cedar fastened together with great and stnmg chains, for the purpose of giving it tte^ greater firmness and solidity.

^ When the whole of this extensive structure was finished, Solomon caus^ it to be divided into two parts; one of these denominated thç Holy of Holies, or Sanctuary, was twenty cubits in taigth; it was consecrated, in an especial manner, to 6od; and no person was permitted to entter this place. The other divisioB, bdng forty cubits long, was catted the Holy Temple, and appropriated to the priests. These two parts were separated by hrg^ doors of cedar, of curious worknunship, and highly gilt, npoa which hung veils of- linen covered with various flowers of a puple, blue, and scarlet colour.

^' Solomon employed, in all that I have described, an admirable workman, particuUirly skSfuI in works of gold, silver, and copper, namod Ohiram, whom he brought from 1V>^« Bis father, of the name of Ur, though a native of Tyre, was of Israelitish extraction, and his mother was of the tribe of Naphthali. This saine man 9àao made him two columns of brass, which were four inches thiok, ei^teen cabits high, and twelve In circumference, at the top «4>f which were cornices of brass. In the fbnii of lilies, five cnbits in height These lilies were covered with foliage of gold, which eatwuned these columns, andfirom which hung, in two rows, two hnndred popnegranates, also of brass. These columns were placed at the entrance of the porch of the temple; that on the right Jiand being called Jachin, and the other, on the left, Boas.

    • Oof of this enclosure, Solomon built another kind of temple,

of a qnadrangnlar form ; surrounded with large galleries, having four entrances ; facing the east, west, north, and south, with great doors, gilt all over : but only those who were purified according to the law, and were resolved t& observe the commandments of God, had permission to enter. The construction of thisT>thér temple was a work so worthy of admiration^ as to be a thing


scarcely credible : for in order to obtain a level of sufficient magnitude on the top of the hill on which the temple is seated, it was necessary to fill up, to the height of four hundred cubits, a valley of such depth that it could not be looked at without fear. He caused this temple to be encompassed with a gallery support* ed by a double range of stone columns, each of one single piece, and these galleries, all the doors of which were silver^ had ceilings of cedar."

From this description it is evident that the Hebrews, when they built the first temple, were unacquainted with the orders of architecture. The two columns of brass afford a sufficient proof of this : the capitals» and the proportions of these columns^ have no resemblance to the early Doric, the only order, perhaps, at that time invented in Greece ; but these same pillars, adorned with foliage, lilies, and pomegranates, remind you of the capricious decorations of the Egyptian column. Besides, the apartments, in the form of pavilions, the ceilings of cedar, gilt, and all those details imperceptible in large masses, demonstrate the truth of my observations respecting the taste of the first Hebrews*

SoIomon^s temple having been destroyed by the Syrians, the second temple, built by Herod, the Ascalonite, belonged to the class of those half Jewish and half Grecian works, of which I shall presently speak.

We have, therefore, now nothing left of the primitive archi- tecture of the Jews* at Jerusalem, except the pool of Bethesda. This is still to be seen near St. Stephen's Gate, and it bounded the temple on the north. It !s a reservoir one hundred and fifty feet long, and forty wide. The sides are walled, and these walls are composed of a t>ed of large stones joined together by iron cramps ; a wall of mixed materials run up on these large stones; a layer of flints stuck upon the surface of this wall ; and a coating laid over these flints. The four beds, are perpendicular with the bottom, and not horizontal: the coating was on the side next the water, and the large stones rested, as they still do, against the ground*

This pool is now dry, and half filled up. Here grow some pomegranate trees, and a species of wild tamarind of a bluish colour; the western angle is quite full of nopals. On the wetft

fiide màjr also be seen two arcbesy which probably led to an aqueduct that carried the water into the intenor of the temple.

JosepbuB calia this pool Slagnum Salcmoma ; in scripture it is called Betheada. Here the lambs destined for sacrifice were washed ; and it was on the brink of this pool that Christ said to the paralytic man, " Rise, take up thy bed and walk." Such is now all that remains of the Jerusalem of David and Solomon.

The monuments of Grecian and Roman Jerusalem are more numerous ; they form a class perfectly new» and very remarkable in the arts. I shall begin with the tombs in the valley of Jehosba- phat and in the valley of Siloe*

Having passed the bridge over the brook Cedron, you come to the sepulchre of Absalom at the foot of the Mount of Offence* It is a square mass, measuring eight feet each way ; composed of a single rock hewn from the neighbouring hill, from which it stands only fifteen feet detached. The ornaments of this sepul* chre consist of twenty-four semi-columns of the Doric order, not fluted, six on each front of the monument These columns form an integral part of the block, having been cut out of the same mass with it. On the capital is the frieze, witi the triglyph, and above the frieze rises a socle, whicjh supports a triangular pyra- mid too lofty for the total height of the tomb. The pyramid is not of the same piece as the rest of the monument.

The sepulchre of Zachariah very nearly resembles that just descilbed. It is hewn out of the rock in the same manner, and terminate^$ in a point, bending a little back, like the Phrygian cap, or a Chmese monument. The sepulchre of Jehoshaphat is a grot, the door of which, in a very good style, is its principal ornament. Lastly, the sepulchre in which St. James the apos- tle concealed himself, has a handsome portico. The four c^ lumns which compose it do not rest upon the ground, but are placed at a certian height in the rock, in the same manner aa the colonnade of the Louvre rises from the first story of that palace. ,

Tradition, as the reader may see, assigns names to these tombs. Arculfe, in Âdamannus ; (De LocU Sanetiê^ lib. i. c. 10. ;) y illalpanduB ; (Ântiquœ Jérusalem Dtacriplio ;) Adrîchoraîus ; (Sen- iensia de Loco Sepulchri ÂhsàUm;) Quaresmius, (torn. ii. c. 4, 5.,) and several others^ have treated of these names, and eiLhausted.


UBtoricd eritidim m the mbjeot Bat though tndilioii wet» not in ant ioatâneo contnidicted bj faett, tbo BRhiteetum of thoBO tnonomenti wooM prore that their origin cannot date ao lac iMck as the earliest period of Jeir ish antiquilj*

If 1 were required to fix preciiely the age in which ftiese mauioleumft were erected, I ahonM place it about the time of the ailianee l>etween the Jews and the Laeed^moniana, under the first Maccabees. The Derfc order was still pre?alei^t 19 Cheeee; the Corinthian did not snpplaat it till halfacentttiy later, when the Romans began to oT«fmn the Peloponaeee a«| Asia,*

Bat in nataraKaiog at Jerusalem the architecture of Corinth and ÂÛiens, the Jews intermixed with it the forma of thoir pecu- liar style. The tomb» in the valley of Jehoehaphat, and pnrticu* larly those of which I shall presently speak, display a manifest alliance of the Bgyp&n and Grecian taste. From this aUlanee resulted a heterogeneous kind of monuments, forming, aa it were, the link between the pyramids and the parthenoa; monuaaents in which you discoTer a sombre, bold, and gigantic genioa ; aod a pleasing, sober, ihd well regulated imagination.f A beautiful illttstratlon of this trath will be seen in the sepulehree of the kings.

Leasing Jerusdem by the gate of Bphraim, and pioeeedtng for about half a mile along the IcTel surface of a redifiah rock, with a few olive trees growing upon it, you arrive in the middle of a field at an excavation which bears a great resemblance lolbe nei^ected works of an old quany. A broad road condocta-yott by an easy descent to the further end of thia excavation, which 3rou enter by an arcade» You tiien find yourself in an uncovefed halt cut out of the rock. This hall is thirfy feet long by twenty broad, and the sides of the rock may be about twelve or flfteen feet in height.

  • In the centre of the south waR you perceive a Urge aquare

door, of the Doric order, sunk to the depth of several feet in the

  • Thtti we find at thia latter period a CorinthiaD portieo in the temple rabniiC

by Herod, columnt with Greek and Latin ioBcription% galea of Corinthian eop* per, ko. Joseph, (book vi. c. 14.)

t Thus onder Fraocii h the Greek srehTtestors^ bleadcd with the GoAic fttjiey produced tone ek^aiailt works.


rock. A frieze, rather whimûcid, but exquisitely deKeate, h scuiptored above the door ; it consiats, firsts of a trigfyph, then comes a metope, adorned with a simple ring, and afterwards a bunch of grapes between two crowns and two palm branches- The triglyph is represented, and the line was doubtless carried in the same manner along the rock ; but it is now effaced. At the distance of eighteen inches from this frieze runs a wreath oi foliage intermixed with pine-apples, and another fruit which I could not make out, iNit which resembles a small Egyptian lemon. This last decoration followed parallel to the frieze, and afterwards descended perpendicularly down both sides of the door. ••*

In the recess, and in the angle to the left of this great portico^ t)pens a passage in which people formerly walked erect, but where you are now obliged to crawl on your hands and knees, lake that in the great pyramid, it leads, by a very steep descend to a square chamber, hewn out of the rock. Holes six feet long and three broad are made in the walls, or rather in the sides of this chamber, for the reception of coflhis. Three arched doors conduct from this first chamber into seven other sepulchral apart- ments of different dimensions, all excavated out of the solid rock ; hut it is a difficult matter to seize their plan, especially by the light of torches. One of these grots, which is lower than the others, having a descent of six steps, seems to have contained the prindpal coffins. These were generally ranged in the following manner : the most distinguished personage was deposited at the farther end of the grot, facing the entrance in the niche or case prepared for the purpose^ and in either side of the door a sma]l vault was reserved for the less illustrious dead, who thus seemed to guard those kings who had no further occasion for their servi- ces. The coffins, of which only fragments are to be seeoti nrer# of stone, and ornamented with elegant arabesques.

Nothmg is so much admired in these tombs as the doors of the sepulchral chambers. These, as well as the hinges and pivots on which they turned, were of the same stone as the grot. Almost all travellers have imagined that they were cut out of the rock itself; but this is evidently impossible, as father Nau baa clearly demonstrated. Thevenot assures us <' that upon scraping «way the dust a little, you may perceive the joinipgsof the stonea.



plaeed there after the doors with their pivots were fixed, ia the holes." Though I scraped awaj the dust, I could perceive none of these marks at the lower part of the ouly door that remain» standing ; all the others being broken in pieces and thrown into the grots.

On entering these palaces of death, I was tempted to take them for baths of Roman architecture, such as those of the sibjl's cave, near Liake Avemus. 1 here allude only to the general effect, in order to make myself understood ; for 1 well knew the purpose to which they had been appropriated. Arculfe, {apud Adaman,) who has described them with great accuracy, saw bones in the coffins. Several centuries afterwards Villamant found in them remains of the same kind, that are now sought in vam. Three pyramids, one of which still existed in the time of Villalpandus, marked externally the situation of this subterraneous monument I know not what to think of Zuellard and Appart» who describe exterior buildings and vestibules.

One question occurs concerning these tombs denominated the sepulchres of the kings — ^what kings are meant? From several passages of scripture, we find that the tombs of the kings of Jodah were in the city of Jerusalem : ** And Ahas slept with his fathers, and they buried him in the city, even in Jerusalem.'** David had his sepulchre on Mount Sion : besides, traces of the Greek chisel are discernible in the ornaments of the sepulchres of 4he kings.

Josephus, to whom we must have recourse, mentions three celebrated mausoleums. The first was the tomb of the Macca- bees, erected by their brother Simon. '^ It was," says Josephus, in his Jewish antiquities, of white and polished marble, so lofty that it could be seen at a very great distance. All around are vaults in the form of porticos ; each of the columns which sup. port them is of a single stone ; and in commemoration of these seven persons he added seven pyramids of very great height and wonderful beauty.

The first book of the Maccabees gives nearly the same parti*

• Tbc author secmi to have been particuhrljr unfertunate in his choiee of this passage for the purpose of supporting the prccetling assertion » since it is immediately added : •« but they brought him not into the sepulchres of the Kings ofI«r»«l-*' \ TVafis/cilor.


Aulars conccrnitig this tomb ; adding, that it was built at Modin, and might be seen of all that sail on the sea.^' Modin was a totm situated near Diospolis on a hill of the tribe of Judah. In the timer of Eusebius, and even in that of St. Jerome, the monu" ment of the Maccabees was still in existence. The sepulchres of the kings, at the gate of Jerusalem, notwithstanding their seven sepulchral chambers, and the pyramids with which they were crowned, cannot have belonged to the Asmonean princes*

Josephus afterwards informs us that Helena, queen of Ad!a* bene, caused three funeral pyramids to be erected at the distance of two stadia from Jerusalem, and that her remains, and those of her son Izates, were there deposited by the care of Monabazes: The same historian, in his narrative of the Jewish war, tracing the Hmitsof the Holy City, says, that the walls passed to the north opposite to the sepulchre of Helena. All this exactly applies to the sepulchres of the kings, which, according to Villalpandus, were adorned with three pyramids, and which are yet to be seea to the north of Jerusalem, at the distance specified by Josephus. St. Jerome also speaks of this sepulchre. The writers who have bestowed their attention on the monument under examination^ have orerlooked a curious passage inPausaniasr^but who would think of Pausanias in treating of Jerusalem ! This passage is as follows :

<< The second tomb was at Jerusalem. It was the burial place of a Jewess, named Helena. The door of the tomb, which was of marble, as well as all the rest, opened of itself, on a certaia day of the year, and at a certain hour, by means of a mechanical contrivance, and shut again soon after. At any other time, had you tried, you would sooner have broken it in pieces than opened it."

This door, which opened and abut of itself by a mechanical contrivance, might, setting aside theiouch of the marvellous, almost apply to the extraordinary doors of the sepulchres of the kings. Suidas and Stephen ofBysantium speak concerning an itinerary of Phœnicia, and Syria, published by Pausanias. If we

  • I have «nee foand tKat it it mentioned l^y the tbbé Goenée in the excellent

memoirs of which 1 have already spoken. He says that he purposes to examine this passage in another loaemoir : he has not done so, which^s mttoh to be regrtttedt


bad this work we should doubtless find it of great assistance is elucidating the subject before us.

The passages of the Jewish historian and the Greek traveller, taken together, would therefore seem to afford satisfactory evi- denccy that the sepulchres of the kings are no other than aie tomb of Helena : but In this conjecture we are checked by the knowledge of the existence of a third monument.

Josephus mentions certain grottos, which, according to ^e literal translation, he denominates the royal caverns ; but, anfortn- nately, he gives no description of them. He places them to the north of the holy city, quite close to the tomb of Helena.

It remains then to be ascertained, what prince it was who caused these caverns of death to be excavated ; how they were decorated, and the remains of what monarchs were there depo- sited. Josephus, who enumerates with such care the works under- taken or completed by Herod the Great, has not included among these works the sepulchres of the kings. He even informs as that Herod, having died at Jericho, was interred with great mag- nificence at Herodium ; consequently, the royal caverns were not the burial place of that prince. An expression, however, whieh bas elsewhere dropped from the historian, may throw some li^t on this discussion.

Speaking of the wall which Titus erected to press Jenisalent still more closely than before, he says, that this wall, retarning towards the norfl), enclosed the sepulchre of Herod. Now this is the situation of the royal caverns : these must, tiierefore, have been indiscrimmately called the royal caverns and the sepulchre of Herod. In thu case, this Herod could not be Herod the Ascalonite, but Herod the tetrareh. The latter prince was almost as magnificent as his father; he built two towns, Sephoris and Tiberias ; and though he was exiled to Lyons by Caligula, be might nevertheless have prepared a tomb for himself in his native land. His brother Plulip had furmshed a model for these sepal* chral edifices.

We know nothing of the monuments with wluch Agrippa embellished Jerusalem.

Such are the most satisfactory parficnlars that I have been able 16 meet with relative to this question. I have thought it right to enter into the discussion, because the subject iias been rather


4>b«ciired than eliiJDidated by preceding critics. The ancient pilgrims, who saw the sepulchre of Helena, have confbunded it with the royal cayerns. The modern traTellers being unable to find the tomb of the queen of Adiabene, have given the name of that tomb to the sepulchres of the princes of the house of Herod. . From all these accounts has resulted a strange confusion — a con- fusion increased by the erudition of the pious writers, who will have it that the royal grots are the burial place of the kings of Jttdahy and have not .wanted authorities to produce in support of their opinion.

A critical consideration of the state of the arts, as well as his* torical facts, obliged us to class the sepulchres of the kings among the Greek monuments at Jerusalem. These sepulchres were extremely numerous, and the posterity of Herod very soon became extinct* so that many of tliese receptacles waited in vain .for their tenants. Nothing more was wanting to convince me of all the vanity of our nature, than to behold the tombs of persons who were never bom. For the rest, nothing can form a more singular contrast than the charming frieze wrought by the Grecian chisel over the door of these awful mansions, where pnce repos- ,ed the ashes of the Herods. The most tragic ideas are connect- ed with the memory of these princes ; we know little of them except from the murder of Mariamne, the massacre of the Inno- cents, the . death of St. John Baptist, and the condemnation of Jesus Christ. Little would you then expect to find their tombs embelibhed with light garlands in the midst of the terrific site of Jerusalem, not far from that temple where Jehovah gave his tre- mendous oracles, and near the grotto where Jeremiah composed his Lamentations.

The other edifices of the time of the Romans at Jerusalem, such as the theatre and amphitheatre, the towers of Antonia, HippicoB, Phasael, and Spephima, no longer exist, or at least are nothing but shapeless masses of ruins.

We now proceed to the third class of the monuments of Jero- aalem, to the monuments of Christianity prior to the invasion of the Saracens. Of these I have nothing more to say, since I have described them in my account of the sacred stations. I shall make but this remark, that as these monuments owe their origin to Christians who were not Jews, they display nothing of that


balf-Egyptian, half-Grecian character, which I have observed In the works of the Asmonean princesy and of the Herods: they are merely Greek churches of the time of the decline of the arts

The fourth class of monuments at Jerusalem consuta of tliose that belong to the period of the taking of the city by the caKpb Omar, the successor of Abubeker, and the head of the race of the Ommiades. The Arabs, who had followed the banxiers of the caliph, made themselves masters of Egypt ; thence advancing along the coast of Africa, they passed over into Bpain, and occn«  |)ied the enchanted palaces of Grenada and Cordova. It is, then, from the reign of Omar that we must date the origin of that Arabian arctiitecture, of which the Aihambra is the master-piece, as the Parthenon is the miracle of the genius of Greece. The mosque of the temple» began at Jerusalem by Omar» enlarged by Abdel-Malek, and rebuilt on a new plan by El*Oulid, is a very curious monument for the history of the arts among the Arabs. It is not yet known after what model were erected those fairy mansions, of which Spain exhibits the ruins. Perhaps the reader will not be displeased if I introduce a few words on a subject so new, and hitherto so little studied.

The first temple erected by Solomon having been destroyed six hundred years before the birth of Christ, it was rebuilt, after the seventy years' captivity, by Joshua, the son of Josedek and Zerubbabel, the son of Salathiel. Herod, the Ascalonite, wholly rebuilt this second temple. On his edifice he employed eleven thousand labourers for nine years ; the works were prodigious, amd were not completed till long after Herod^s death. The Jews, having filled up precipiceS| and cut down the top of the moun- tain, at length formed that magnificent esplanade on which the temple was erected to the east of Jerusalem, above the vallyes of Siloe and Jehoshaphat.

Forty days after his birth, Christ was presented in this second temple, and here the Virgin was purified : here, too, at the age of twelve years, the Son of Man instructedthe doctors ; and henct? be expelled the dealers. Here he was in vain tempted by the devil; here he remitted the sinsof theadultress; here he deliver- ed the parables of the good shepherd, the two sons, the labour- ers in the vineyard, and the marriage feast. It was^ this same temple into which he entered amidst branches of palms and olive


trees : lastlyi here he pronounced the words, Render unto Cœear the things that are Cs^^^ar's, and unto Crod the things that arc God's, and bestowed an encomium on the widow's mite.

Titus having taken Jerusalem in the second year of Vespa* sian^s reign, not one stone was left upon another of that temple where Christ had done such glorious things, and the destruction of which he had predicted. When Omar took Jerusalem, it ap* pears that the site of the temple, with the exception of a veiy small part, had been abandoned by the Christians. SaidEben- Batrik, an Arabic historian, relates that the caliph applied to the patriarch Sophronius, and inquired of him what would Jbe the most proper place at Jerusalem for building a mosque. Sophro- nius conducted him to the ruins of Solomon's temple.

Omar, delighted with the opportunity of erecting a mosque on so celebrated a spot, caused the ground to be cleared, and the earth to be removed from a large rock where God is said to have conversed with Jacob. From that rock the new mosque took its name of Gameat-el-Sakhra, and became almost as sacred an ob- ject to the Mussulmans as the mosques of Mecca *and Medina. The caliph Abd-el*Malek made additions to its buildings, and encloaed the rock with walls. His successor, tlie caliph £1 Louid» contributed still more to the embellishment of £1 Sakhra, ami covered it with a dome of copper, gilt, taken from a church at Balbek. In the secfUel, the crusaders converted the temple of Mahomet .into a sanctuary of Christ ; but when Saladin retook Jerusalem, he restored this edifice to Its original use*

But of what nature is the architecture of this mosque, the type or primitive model, of the elegant architecture of the Moors? Tfhis is a question which it is very difficult to resolve. The Arabs, in consequence of their despotic and jealous liabite, have reserved their decorations for the interior of their monuments ; and the penalty of death was denounced against every Christian who ^ould not only enter the Gameat-el-Sakhra, but merely set foot in the court by which it is surrounded. It is much to be regretted that Deshayes, the ambassador, out of a vain diplomatic scruple, re- fused to see this mosque, into iirhich the Turks offered to intro- duce him. I shall describe the exteriov as it appeared to me, and give such particulars of the interior as we have learned from rs^r rious truTdlers and historians.


The great square of the mosque, fonnerly the great aqu ve of (he temple, may be seen from a window in Pilate's faoiiae« Tbia square forms a court, about fi?e hundred paces in length, and . four hundred and sixty in breadth. On the east and south, this court is bounded by the wall of the city, on the west by Turkish house», and on the north by the ruins of prstorium of Pilot ami Herod's palace.

Twelve porticos, placed at unequal distances, and perfectly irregular, like the cluisters of the Albambra, form the entfaaces to this court. They are composed of three or four arches^ and these, «in some instance?, support a second row, producing, m nearly as possible, the effect of a double aqueduct. The most considerable of these porticos corresponds with the ancient Porfo Speciosay known to tlie Christians by a miracle wrought by St. Peter. There are lamps under these porches.

In the midst of this court is a smaller, raised like a tenace, without balustrade, six or seven feet above the former. This second couit is, according to the general opinion, two hundred paces long and one hundred and fifty broad ; on each of the four sides there is an ascent to it by a flight of eight marble steps.

In the centre of this upper court stands the famous mosqife of the Rock. Close to the mosque is a cistern, which receives its water from the ancient Fons Signalus^ and at which the Turks perform their ablutions before they go to prayer. Some aged olive trees and cypresses are thinly scattered over bothconrta. .

Tiie temple itself is an octagon : a lantern, which has likewise eight sides, and a window in each, crowns the edifice. This lantern is covered with a dome, formerly of copper, gilt, but now of lead : a pimmcle, in a very* good style, terminated by a cr^- cent, rises at the top of the whole structure, which resembles an .Arabian tent pitched in the middle of a desert Father Roger gives thirty-two paces for the measure of each dde of the octa- gon, two hundred and fifty-two for the external circumference of the mosque, and eighteen or twenty fathoms for the total height of the building.

The walls are lined externally with small tiles or bridu, painted with different colours : these bricks are covered with arabesques, and verses from the Koran, inscribed in letters of gold. The eight windows of the lantern are adorned with circular panes pf


liimed.glAM» ' Bbi^ we already discover some oilgtBal featurei of the Moorish edifices in Bpaia : the light porticos of the court, and the painted brieks of the sios^ue, reimod you of diOerent parts 9f the geoteralif, the Alhambra, and the cathedral of Cordova. Lotus now proceed to the interior of this mosque^ which I havenot seen^ and which it was impossible for me to see. I was strong^ tempted to nm- every risk in order to gratify my love of the arts ; but was deterred by the fear of involving all the Christians at Jerusalem in destrucûon.

The most ancient author ftat has described the mosqne of the Reck» is WiJIiam of Tyre ^ who could not fail to be well acquainted with it, since it had but jnat been wrested oat of the hands of the Christians at the period when the sagacious archbishop wrote his history* He speaks of it in the following terms.

    • We have said, at the beginnSng of this book, that Omar, the

son of Caled, erected this temple ; a -circumstance which is evi- dently proved by the aiicient inscriptions engraven both within ' and without this edifice. The iiistoriao then proceeds to the description of the court, and adds : In the angles of this court were esctremely lofty towers^ from the top of which the priests of the Saracens we)re accustomed, at certain hours, to summon the people to prayers. Some of these towers remain standing to this day, but the others have been destroyed by various acddents. No persim was allowed to enter or remain in tliis. court otherwise than wiâi his feet 0BC0V«red and washed.

'The temple is hniltia the middle of the upper court; it is octagonal; and adorned both intemaliy and e^ctemally, with squares of inarbli?, and Mosaic work. The two courts, both tbe upiler and the lower, are paved with white flag stones to eatcb» in winter, the rain water, which falls in great abundance from the bniUyngs of the temple, and runs very dear, and without any mlittUTe of mud, into the cisterns l>elow. In the middle of the. temple, between the inner range of c^nmiis^ a rock of no great beit^t, and at the fiVot of it a grotto hewn out of the same stpacé Upon this rock sat the angel, wbo^ as a punishment for David's incomdderatenumberii^ of the pei^le, dau^tered them till God commanded ïÂm to return his sword into the scabbard. This -rock, previously to the arrival of our armies, was naked and uncovered^ and hi Hiis state it remained for fifteen years ; but those to whose


S50 TIUTELfl IK GEBBCEi riliBSTlirs, ,»

care this place was afterwards entrusted covered H agapn^aiii erected apon it a chapel and an altar, for the perfomumee of di- vine worship."

Thete details are curious, because it is almost eight hondied years since they were written ; but we learn from theto very KtOa respecting the interior of the mosque. The most ancient 4rfvd- lers, Arcnlfe in Adamannus, Wrilibald, Eemard the monk, Ij^ dolph, Breydenbach, Sanuto, and others, speak of it only Irom hearsay, and apparently not always from the best aufiioritiea. The ftnaticism of the Mdssulmen was mueh greater m those temote ages tlian it is at present ; and hotUng could induce tfaena» l»tf»- veal to a Christian the m;^sterie» of tiieir temples. We must therefore pass on to modem travellers, and panse once more at Deshayes.

This ambassador of Lonls XIII. to Palestine, reaped, a& I have obseryed, to enter the mosque of the Rock ; but the Torks gave him a description of this temple. '

'<It has,^ says he, *< a great dome, supported within by two ranges of marble columns, in the middle of which is a laig» «tone, upon which, as the Turks believe, Mahomet asoende^ when be went to heaven. On this account they hold it in lig|k veneration; and those who possess the ability, leave money t» keep a person, after their death, to read the Koran near thia atone on their behalf. '*^

' << The interior of this mosque Is quite white, esùéçi in ae^ tain places, where the name of God is inscribed in large Aiabic characters. . . This account differs not much from that given hj WilBaai'0f Tyre» Father Roger will furnish us with more information, for he seems to have found means to obtain admission into ihe mosque, at least, ao we may judge from the folldwing ei^planr tkni.

    • If a Christian were to gain access into the court of th0

temple, whatever prayers- he might ofihr up iû this place, (aoceed- fngtothe notion of the Turks,) God would not fiOl ta giaht, were he even solicited to pot Jerusalem into the haiids.-oC the Christians. For this reason, beside the prdiibition issued agmit Christians not^mly to enter the temple, but teven the cow^^ upon paijD of being burned alire» or tnniing JUahometai», 0iey keep a

• tigilairt ;gaardi time Vas, however, gained in m^r time by « ttr9> Ittgéniy wbieh I am not at liberty to mention, on account of the eonseqaeiHies which might attend the 'diacloBnre. I shall thete- lëré eonfîne myself to a notice of the -remarkable things to he seen there/'

'Front the description ef the conrt he proceeds to that of the teihple. ** To enter the mosque/ there are four doorsi sMtiated to^the east, west, north, and south, each -having its portal highly tftmamented with mouldings, and six columns, with their pedes* tel» and e^^itals all of nâarble aod porphyry. The interior is »lwliy of white marble^ the pavement itself is formed of large dabs of marble of different colours, the greater part of which, as vaelt of the colunms as of the marble and> the lead, was taken by the Turks ^ther from the church of Bethlehem, or from 0iat txtihe Holy Sepulchre, and others which they demolished» Y "^ In the temple there are thirty-two columns of gray marble hi two rows: of these, sixteen large ones support the first vault, and the others the ^ome, each having its pedestal and capital* All round the columns are very beautiful works in iron and eop^ |Mr, gill^ made in the Ibrm of ohaiideliers» npon which are placed seven thousand kmps, that bum from sunset on Fricfay tSJ&Mur- day noon, spod every year for a month together; that is, at the season of Ramadan, which is their Lent

^In the midst of the temple there is a small tower of mar^ Ms, to which they ascend on the ootaide by eighteen steps.* Here Hie oadi. takes his station every Friday from twelve till two b^ciock, aie time occupied by their ceremonies, as wdl a!s their prayers as the espositions whMk he gives of the principal points of the Koran.

^ Beside the thirty-two columns which support the vanlt andi d^me, there are two of smaller dimensions very near the west door, which are shown to foreign pilgnmsi, who are made to believe that if they can pass with ease between these columns they

  • re predestmed to sfa^re the joys of Mahomet's paradise* It is

Jikewise said that if a Christian ^ere to pass between these co» Mbbs, they would jclose uponiiim, and crush him to death. I know, liowever^ persona to. whpm this accident did not happen, thoogli ihey were very good Christiana.

/ 352 TRiïVELS IN GRC£C«, ?ilLS8TIKB>

' *^ Ai the distance of three paces from these two cotomiiB tbere sa stone in the pavement, which appears to be black marble, about two feet and a half square, and raised a little above (Ik pavement. In this stone are twenty*three holes, rn which it seenis as if there had formerly" been nails, and indeed twoarejet remaiii- ing* For what purpose tiiese could be designed, I know not : the Mahometans themselves cannot tell, though they beliete'thàt it was on this stone the prophet» set their feet when they alighted from their horses to go into the Temple, and that Mahomet alao alighted upon it when he arrived from Arabia Felix, on hid jomr- Bey to Paradise to hold consultation with' God.'*

This description is very circumstantial, and, probably, very feithful ; it displays all the characteristics of truth. It suffices not, however, to prove that the interior of the mosque of Jeru- salem bears any resemblanoe to the interior of the Moorish montt- ments in Spain. This absolutely depends on the manner in wbich tfae columns are arranged ; and on that subject Father Roger is silent. Do they support small arches ? are they coupled, grouped, detached, as at Cordova and Grenada ? But if the exte- rior of this mosque exhibits so striking a resemblance to èome partis of the Alhambra, may we not presume that the Interior also displays the same style of architecture ? T should be the more disposed to admit this conclusioà, as the^marble and co- lumns of this edifice have been taken from Christian churches, and must present that mixture of orders and proportions obser- vable in the cathedral of Cordova.

To these conjectures, let us subjoin one observation. The deserted mosque, which is to be seen near Cairo, appears to be of the^same stjie as the mosque of Jerusalem : now, this mosque «t Cairo is evidently the origma! of the mosque of Cordova* The latter was built by the last descendants of the family of tbe Omiades; and Omar, the heAd of that family, was the founder of the mosque of Jerusalem.

The genuine Arabian monuments belong, then, to the first dy- nasty of the caliphs, and to the genius of the nation in general. They are not, therefore, as has been hitherto believed, the result o£ a skill peculiar to the Moors of Andalusia, since I have dis- covered the modek of these structnrts In the East, '

JtÙltVf AND BÀRIBlA&T. ôiâ

Thk being proved,! shall go still fartlier. I think I can per. ceive in the Egypdan architecture, so heary, so majestic, so vast, no durable, the germ of this Saracenic architecture, so light, so ' ebeerlo], so delicate, and so frail : the minaret is an imitation of the obelisk.; the arabesques are raised hieroglyphics instead of engraved hieroglyphics. As to those forests of columns whicli compose the interior of the Arabic mosques, and support a fiat roof, the temples of Blemphis, Dendera, Thebes, Meroue, stiH ^exbibit patterns of thiis kind of building. Placed on the frontiers [ of Metzraim, the imagination of the descendants of Ishmael could net help being struck by the wonders of the PharaOhs : they bon» r»wéd nothing of the Greeks, with whom they were unacquainted, bot they strove to copy the arts of a celebrated nation whicli they had continually before their eyes. Whether vagabonds, conquerors, or travellers, they imitated immutable Egypt in their eoorae ; . they n^ade themselves obelisks of gilded wood, and hieroglyphics of plaster, which they could remove with their tents upon the backs of their camels.

I am aware that this system, if it be one, is liable to some ob* jections, and even to historical objeetions.r I know that the pa^ iace of Zehra^ built by Abdoulrahman, near Cordova, was erect- ed after the plan of an architect of Constantinople, and that the colamns of this. palace were hown in Greece; I know that there is an architeclure which sprung up in the corruption of the art, and may aptly be denomibated the Justinian, and that this àrchi>- tecture bears some resemblance to the works of the Moors ; t know, moreover, that men of excellent taste and extensive know- ledge, such as the worthy M. d'Agincourt, and M. de la Borde, author of the magnificent Travels in 8pain, look upon every species of architecture as the offspring of Greece: but, be these difficulties ever so great, these authorities ever so powerful, I must confess that they are not capable of changing my opinion. A plan sent by an architect from Gonstaniinople, columns hewa on the shores of the Bosphohis, Greek workmen rearing à mosque, prove nothing whatever; np general .consequence can be dedu- ced from a particular feet I have seen the Justioian architec- ture at Constantinople: it has, I admit, some resemblance to the Saracenic monuments, as in the pointed arch; and atthe^ame iimB it retains a regularity, a eeldnees, a solidity that is not to

6hlk TAAVCL8 VH d&BKtSi FAhésTîW,

be fonnd in the Arabian imagination. Besides, tlus Jnstinlair ar^ cbitecture itself seems to me to be nothing more than the ' reintit»- doction of the Egyptian architecture into that of Greece. This neiv inyauon of the art of Memphis was produced by tbe estàb*^ lishment of ChrisUanity : the recluses who peopled the déserte of Thebais, and whose opinions governed the world/ introduced into charches, monasteries, and even palaces, those degene- rate" porficosy called cloisters, in which breathes '(be gehina of the East Let us remark, in support of this, Uiat the real decline of the arts among the Greeks begins precisely at the period of the translation of the seat of the Roman empire- fee Constantinople; which proves that Grecian architecture was net the parent of the Oriental, biit that the latter insinuated itself into Grecian architecture in consequence of the vicii^fy of places.

I am therefore inclined to consider all kinds of architectorey not excepting the Gothic, as being of Egyptian ori^ ; for-nothlng ever came from the north, but the sword and devastation. But tbia Egyptian architecture has been modified according to the ge«  nius of different nations : it underwent scarcely any change among the early Hebrews, who merely excluded its monsters and idobt- trous deities. In Greece, where it was Introduced by Oecrops and Inaehut, it was purified, and became the model of every species of beauty. It was conveyed to Rome by the Tuscans, na Egyptian colony: here it preserved its grandeur, bi^t never attain^ ed perfection as at Athens. Apostles from the East canifd it among the barbarians of the north ; without toeing its religious and •ombre character among these nations^ it rai$ed itself upon tho forests of Gaul and Germany ; it exhibited the singular combioft- tion of strength, majesty, and heaviness la the whole together^aml of tbe most extraordinary lightness in the details. Finally, amonf^ the Arabs it assumed the features of which we have already spo* ken, the architecture of the desert, enchanted as its oases, magi* cal as the stories narrated beneath the tent^ but liable to be carried away by the winds, with the sand which «t first aerved it for a foundation. r

In support of my opinion I could adduce a million historical facts; I couM demonstrate that the first temples of Greece, 9uch as thatpf Jupiter. at. Onga near Ao^yclœ, were g^uine Egyptian


^mples } tbftt ^e scolpliire itself; of Ai^os, of SpaeU» of ' A^ens^, in ^e tiœç of Daedalusi and in the, heroic. ages, nras Egyptian. Bii^I fear that I have already extended this digression too far ; and it 19^ high time to proceed to the Gothic monuments at Jern* aalem* . ..

. These consist of ^ few tombs. The monuments of Godfrey and Baldwin are two stone coffins supported by four little pillars. The epitaphs, which the reader has seen in the description of Dcsbayes, are inscribed on these coffins in Gothic letters. In ■ all this, separately considered, there is nothing yery particular; jet I was exceedingly struck by the appearance of these tombs an, entering the church of the Holy Sepulchre. Their strange , farms, in a strange land, were indicative of other men, other man* nerS) other countries ; I fancied mys^eif transported into one of our ancient monasteries ; I was like the native of Otaheite when he lliscovered, in France, a tree of his countiy. I contemplated with feneration these Gothic mausoleums containing the ashes of - French chevdiers, who from pilgrims had become kings, aqd who are the heroes of the Jerusalem DelivfircfL I recollected tiie w,çxéà, which Tasso puts into the mouth of Godfrey ; .

Chi «U di Boi, eh*eiier tepslto selùvi» ... ÙYé* i membri di Dio far gia sepalti ?

As to the Turkish monuments, the last witnesses that attest the revolutions of empires at Jerusalem, they are not worth no* ttce : I have mentioned theiii merely as a hiut that the works of the Tartars must by no means be confounded with the prodiic*' tiods of the Moon. It would, in fact, be more correct to assert that the Turks know absolutely nothing of architecture; the utmost they have done has been to disfigure the Greek and Arabic structurés, by crowning them with massive domes and Chinese pavilions. Some bazarii and oratories of santons are bÀ that the new tyriants of Jerusalem have added to that unfortunate city, with the different monuments of which the reader is now acquainted.

On returning from iny visit to die sepulchres of the kings, which have furnished occasion for the preceding deàcriptions, I passed through the valley of Jehoshaphat: the sun was setting behind Jerusalem : he gilded with his last rays this mass of ruins and the iDOuntains of Judea; I sent back my eompaaions by the gate of


8t, Stephen, keeping nobody but the janÎBsary witb me.. Seating myself at the foot of the tomb of Jehoshapbat, with my face towards the temple, I took a volume of Racine fr<Mn my pocket, and read Âtlialiah. At these first verses :

Oui, je viens dam eon temple iidorèr l'Etemel, be*

it is impossible for me to express wbat I felt, I fancied that I could hear tlie song of Solomon, and the voices of the prophets ; ancient Jerusalem rose to my view | the shades of Joad, Atfaaliah, and Josabeth, issued from the tomb ; and it seemed as if I had been incapable till that moment of appreciating the genius of Racine. What poetry! since L thought it worthy of the place where I was. 'Tie impossible to conceive the effect of Athaliahy read upon the tomb of the '^holy king Jehoshapbat," on the banks of the brook Cedron, and before the ruins of the temple. But what has become of this temple, ^' adorned in eveiy part with magnificent festoons V^

Comment en tin plomb vit Tor par s'est*!! eliangé> Quel est dans ce lien saint, ee pontife égorgé } . I'teure, Jerusalem, pleure, cité perfide, Des prophètes ditins malheureuse homicide ; De son amour pour toi ton Dieu s'est dépouillé ; Ton encens à ses yeux est un encens souillé.

Ou menez-Tous ces enFans et ees femmes ? Le Seigneur a détruit la reine des cités ; Ses prêtres sont captifs, ses rois rejettes ; Dieu ne vient plus qu^on vienne & ses solennités ; Temple» renverse-toi ; cèdres, jetez des âammes* Jerusalem» objet de ma douleur.

Quelle main en un jour, t*a ravi tous tes eharmei I Qui changera mes jeux en deux sources de larmes Pour pleurer ton malheur î ^

  • îrflr/a*.'— O saint temple !

Josabeth^O David !

Xo CAa tir.— Dieu de Sion, rappelle.

Bappelle en sa faveur tes antiques bontés.

The pen drops from ray fingers: one feels ashamed to scribble any more after a man has written such verses.

I spent part of the 9th in the convent, to collect some particu- lars respecting private life at Jerusalem : having seen every thing of consequence within and without the ci^, except Nehemiah's


•W(BfM,in which the sacred fire was concealed at the time of the captivity, the sepulchres of the judges, and some other places. These I visited in the evening of the 9th; but as there is opthing remarkable about them but their names, it is not worth while to detain the reader's attention with them.

f shall therefore proceed to those little details which excite curiosity in proportion to the renown of the places that are treated of. Who could figure lo himself, that people live at Athens and Sparta in the same manner as in Ins own country ? Jerusalem, aboire all, whose name awakens the recollection of so many mysteries, overawes the imagination : it seems as if every thing must be extraordinary in that extraordinary city. Let us see how £Bur this is really the case, and begin with the description of the convent of the Latin fathers. ,

You reach it by a covered way, which leads to another pas* sage of considérable length, and ¥«ry tiark. At the end of this passage you come to à court formed by the wood house, cellar, and pantry of the convent In this court you perceive, to the right, a flight of twelve or fifteen steps, ascending to a cloist^f, which is immediately over the cellar, wood house, and pantry, and consequently overlooks the court by which you enter. At the east end of this cloister opens a vestibule that communicates with the church, which is very pretty. It has a choir fitted up with stalls, a nave lighted by a dome, an altar, in the Roman style, and a small organ ; but M con>priaed in a space only twenty- feet by twelve.

Another door, at the west end of the above-mentioned cloister, leads to the interior of the convent. <<This -convent," says a pflgrim (Dottbdan) in his description, not less distinguished for accuracy than simplicity, *' is very irregular, built in Ihe antique style, consisting of several parts, high and low, th^e offices small, and concealed from view, the apartment» poor and dark, several little courts, two small gardens, the largest of which may be About fifteen or sixteen perches, and adjoining to the ramparts of ibe city. Towards the west end is another court, and some small rooms ibrpilgrinM. All the recreation to be found in this place is to ascend to the terrace of the church, where you enjoy a view of the whole city, which goes down bill all the way to the valley ef Jeboshaphat : you see the cbnrch of the Holy Sepulchre, the

2B -


court of Solomon's Temple, and fiurtber off, but Hkeyrise towardi the east, tlie Mount of Olives; to the south, the castle of tbe cttf , and the road to Bethlehem ; and to the north, the grotto of Jeremiah. Sueh, in a few words, is the plan and description of ftis convent, which partakes very much of the simplicitj and poverty of Him who, though he was rich, yet, on this veiy spot, for our sakes, became poor.

The apartment which I occupied is called the Pilgrims' Great Room. It looks upon a solitary court, enclosed on all sides with walls. The furniture consisted of a hospital bed, with curtains of green serge, a table, and a box : my servants bad two cells at a considerable distance from me. A pitcher of water, and a lamp» in the Italian fashion, completed my establishment The room, of large size, was dark, having but one window, which opened ioto the courtythat I have just mentioned. Thirteen pilgrims had ia- . scribed their names on the door, in the inside of the room. The first was Charles Lombard, who was at Jerusalem in 1669, and tbe last, John Gordon, the date of whose visit is 1804.* I found only ttiree French names among these thirteen travellers.

The pilgrims do not eat with the fathers as at Jaffa. A' se* parate provision is made for them, and they go to what expense they please. If they are poor ihef are supplied with food; if rich, they pay for such things' as are bought for them: so that the convent gets by them not one single farthing. Lodging, bed, linen, light, and fire, are always furnished gratis, as a tribate dae to hospitality.

A cook was placed at my disposal. I scarcely ever dined be- fore dark, on my return from my excursions. Lentil soup, dress- ed with oil, was the first dish ; then came veal, stewed with cu- cumbers or onions, broiled kid, or mutton boiled with rice. Leef is never eaten here, and bufialo's flesh has a strong taste. Of roast, I bad pigeons, and sometimes partridges, of the white species» call- ed partridges of the desert. Game is very common in the plain of Ramah, and in the mountains of Judea: it consists of partridges woodcocks, hares, wild boars, and antelopes. The quail of Ara«  bia, which fed the Israelites, is almost unknown in Jerusalem ; though it is sometimes met with in the valley of thf Jordan. l%e

• Probably tbe same Mr- Gordon Avbose analysis of a bottle of the vater of ihe Dead Seaia notieed in the preeeding part of tliit vor^


MI7 regètables ever brought to my table, were lentilsi beans, CflGumbers, aod onions.

The wine of Jerusalem is excellent; it has the colour and taste of the wines of Rousillon. It is still furnished by the hill» ofEngaddi, nçar Bethlehem. As to fruits,, I ate , as nt Jaffa, large grapes, dates, pomegranates, water melons, apples, and figs, of the second season ; those of the sycamore, or Pharaoh's 6g- tree, were over. The bread made at the convent was good, aud wen tasted.

Let us now proceed to the prices of these different eatables.

The quintal of Jerusalem b composed of one hundred rolts ; the rolt, çf nine hundred drachms. The rolt is equal to two oques and a quarter, which make very near eight French pounds.

Mutton sells at two piastres ten paras the rolt. TbeTnrk* lab piastre, the value of which is continually fluctuating at the pleasure of the t>eys and pachas of Egypt, does not amount in Syria to more than tiiirty-three sous four deniers^ and the para to more than ten deniers ;* consequently, the roU being very near eight pounds, a ponnd of mutton sells at Jerusalem fo/ nine sous four deniers and a half {between fourpence halfpenny and fivèpence Bnglisb^)

Veal costs only a piastre the rolt, a forge sheep ten or fifteen piastres, a goat six or eight.

The price of a measure of wheat varies from eight to nine piastre».

Oil sells for three piastres the rolt.

Vegetables are very dear; they are brought to Jerusalem froQi Jaffa and the neighbouring villages,

Tliis year (1806) grapes for making wine sold for twenty-seven piastres per qniotal.

A person who would not choose to put vp at the kans, or to lire with the fathers of the Holy Land, might hire one or mere rooms in a private house at Jerusalem, but there his life would not be safe. According to the small or large sise, the wretched- ness or the opulence of the house, each room would cost from^ two to twenty piastres per n^onth. A whole house, containing

  • A«cording to this eakalation, ft piastre is eqmraletit to between one sl^U.

ling and fourpence halfpenny, and one shilling and iivcpence; and a para Jib not quite a farthing in English monty^-^Trantlator,


ooe pretty large apartment, and twelve or fifteen holes» calM rooms, would let for five thousand piastres a year.

A master workman, a mason, a cabinet maker, a carpenter, receives two piastres a day, and his food ; but a joumeyraan is paid only one piastre a day.

There is no fixedmsasure for land : it is most commonly bought from personal inspection of the piece yon wish to purchase; and the value of it is calculated by the quantity of fruit, corn, or grapes, which it is capable of producing.

The plough has no wheels ;*the share, which is very small, scarcely grazes the ground ; it is drawn by oxen.

The crops raised are barley, wheat, doura, maize, and cottoa. Sesamum is sown in the sanle field in which cotton is cultivated.

A mule costs from one to two hundred piastres, according to its beauty : an ass is worth from fifteen to fifty. Eighty or one hundred piastres are given for an. ordinary horse, which is in gen* aral less valued; than an ass oca mule: but a horse, of a well known Arabian breed) will fetch any price. Abdallah, pacha of Damascus, had just given three thousand piastres for one. The l^istory of a horse is frequently the topic of general conversatioD. When I was at Jerusalem, the feats of one of these wonderful steeds made a great noise. The Bedouin, to whom the ahlhial, a mare, belonged, being pursued by the governor's guards, rushed with her from the top of (he hills that overtook Jericho. The mare scoured !at full gallop down an jilmost perpendicular decli* vity, without stumbling, and left the soldiers lost in admiration and astonishment. The poor creature, however, dropped down dead on entering Jericho, and the Bedouin, who would not quit her; was taken, weeping over the body of his companion. This mare has a brother in the de3ert,.who is so famous, that the Arabs^ always knowf where he has been, where he is, what he is doing, and how he does. Alt Aga religiously showed me, in the mountains near Jericho, the footsteps of the mare that died in. the attempt to save her master: a Macedonian could not have beheld tboae of .Bucephalus with greater respect.

Let us now say something canceming the pilgrima.. The mo* dern accounts have rather exaggerated the wealth which the pil- grims are-supppsed to diffuse in their travels in the Holy Land^ But, in the first placei to what pilgrims do they allude ? Not to


Latin pif^rims, for there are none now; and this is generally «dmitted. During the last century the fathers of 8t. Saviour have not seen, perhaps, two hundred Catholic travellers, including the religious of their orders, and the n^is&ionaries in the Levant- That the Latin pilgrims have never been numerous, may be proved from a*thou3and circumstances. Thevenot relates, that in 16^6. be was the twenty-second person wl^ahad visitedthe Holy Sepul- chre. Very -often the number of pilgrims did not amount ta twelve, since it was found necessary to take some of the religious to make up that number at the ceremony of foot^washing oor Maundy Thursday* In fact, \^ 1589, sixty-seven years before Thevenot, ViHamont found only six £uro|5ean pilgrims at Jeru- salern.f If in 1589, when religion was sa flourishing, no more than seven Latin pilgrims were to be found in Palestine, I leave the reader to judge how many there might have beeu in 1806. My atrival at the convent of St. Saviour was considered a» an extraordinary event M. Seetzen, who was there at Easter, the same year, that is, seven months before me, says that he was the only Catholic.

Â8 the riches swallowed up by the Holy Sepulchre are not brought to Jerusalem by Catholics, thqy must consequently be derived from Jewish, Greek, and Armenian pilgrims : In this case even, I think the calculations much overrated.

The greatest expense of the pilgrims (consists in the duties which- tiiey are obliged to pay to the Turks and Arabs, either for admis- sion into the holy places, or for caffccn, or passports. Now the sum total of aU these amounts to no more than shxty-five piastrea- tweoly-nine paras. If the piastre be taken at its maximum, at fifty French sous; and the para at fifteen deniers, this will make, one hundred sixty-four livres, six sous, three deniers :{ but if we calculate the piastre at its minimum, that is, at thirty-three sou» four deniers, and the para at ten deniers, we shall have one hun- dred and eight livres, nine sous, six deniers.§ Here is the state- ment as I received it from the procurator of the convent of St. Saviour. I leave it in Italian, which is now understood by every body, with the proper names of the Turks, &c. original charac- teristics which attest its authenticity.

• TlieTen. chap. xUI. p. d9t. f Liv. ji. e. 19. p. 150.

Jiout m. 17». En^Ûah numey^ § .Uout 4/. ip». 5rf. Enffliai


Speta BQÎita chefa un peUriiw en la êua iniraia da Qiafa tin a GeMifâÎM^ e nel riiorno a Oiaffa.*

Ptost. Pir.

!In Giaffa doppo il tuo tbarco Cafarro 5 SO

In Giaffa prima del imbarco a1 tuo ritorno 5 ^

t^SaTaleatara wfi a Kama, e portar a1 Aravot «he aceompannas in a

Geniaaleme lîO

Pago al Aravo cbe accompagna 5 — ) .10 36

AI Tilino cbe accompagna da Gerasma 5 30)

CavalcaUira per yenire da Kama ed altra per i-itornare -."..- 10 —

Cafarri nella ttrida l^*

Intrata net SSmo.SepuIcro Al Meheah gOTernatore. £ stader del tempio 26 3^ Intrata nella cilta Ciobadari del cadi e governatore, «bipro e portinaro — 15 Primo e teeundo drogomano --------•----•> *3a0

65 29

If the pilgrim goes to the Jordan, the ' sum of twelve piastres must be added to the above amount.

It appears to me that, in a discussion of facts, there may be readers who would like to see a statement of my own expenses at Jerusalem. If it be considered that I had horses., janissaries, and escorts, at my command ; that I lived, in regard to eating and drinking, as I might at Paris ; that I was continually visiting tiie Holy Sepulchre at unusual hours ; that I went to see the same places ten times over, and ten times over paid the duties, theeaffkri^ and a thousand other exactions of the Turks, the wonder will be that I was quit for so small a sum. I subjoin a copy of the original account, with all the orthographical errors of Micha^, the drogtnan: it is so far curious, as it retains, in some measure, the air of the country. The reader may there trace all my mo» tipns, and find the proper names of several persons, the prices of various articles, &&c. Lastly, ibese accounts are faithful witnesses of thé veracity of my narrative. They will likewise show, that in the latter I have omitted to notice many things, end

  • Thefollvmng accouiUa differ a little in their nume t9tnl, becattae the

wilue of the piattre iê daily fiuctuatiiig in Syria^ while that of the para re- maint stationary .* for vhich reaoon the piastre it at different iimee ootH' poêèd of a different nuniber ofparat.

t AravOf instead of Arabo^^a oubstitiition of one letter for another^ vety common in the Frank langw^e^ in modeint and'in ancient Greek.


tft*tl have examined Jerusalem with much greater attention than I Jiare aaserted.


Pitst.Par. Per no ineaio a Geniialemme --••..••4....7go

Altro mesto a Rama -- 3_

AlCro pep avitari agU Aravi -.-- 1| ^

Orao in Bating per gli cavalli ••.... ^.•.... ^

Per il cavallo del sorvitore di Giafb in Bama SSO

Gaffaro aUt Aravi .^ 8 56

Al cavaliero ehe adato il govre di Rama 15 —

Per il eavallo ehe porto aua Ecea a Gehitalemme IS^^

Regallo aUi seryitori degli cavalli ' 3 —

liegallo al Moearo Menam -.-. 5-~.


gpCBa faitaper il Si^e. del^omo tld tuo arriva a Gefitaalemme aU 4 di

Ottobre, 1806. n gioroo del buo arrivo per cavaliera da Rama a Gerusalemme - - -15 •— Compania per U Arabi, 6 isolote per tesU ---.-.-• .13 £0

Cadi, a 10 Mi. <. 80

Al muecaro. •......-..•..• 180

Cavaloattira per Miehele andari, e ritornar da Rama. -..-... 8 80 4 Cavalli per andarre a Betlemme, e al Giordano. --..... 8C( —

Al portinaro delta citta -....-,.,...... .-l 85

Aipertnra del Smo. Sepolcro. ....•••.•..... i 85

Uegallo alii portinari de Smo. Sepolcro 7 persone. •-....-30*-*

Alii figlio ehe Chiamano U Tnrohi per aprire la porto. .--..-iSâ Al Chavas del goveraatore per avere aecompagniato il signe* dentro

delta oitta, e foori a oavallo. ..8-^

liem, ^ un dalati cioe guardta del Zambamkgi Pari. ..--..4*. Per 5 eavalti per ahdare al Monte OUbetei e altri luogbi, e seconda

volte al Potzodi Jeremia, e la madona. .-16 30

Al genisero per oompaniare il sige. a Retlemrae. -.••....380 Ttem. Al genisero per avere andato oqI sige. per la citta. .... 1 ... 20 Ottobre. per la aptfrtoni del Smo. Sepolcro. .........l 35

189 10


Spewfatie da Michèle per ordine del Sige, invari Inogfd.

Piast. Par.

In Ubaoo per H >inani e \^ eompania nel Tiagio per il CUordano, e per

li ^illaai di Sn. Saba, -.--j 62#

In eandella par Sn. Saba e scrvitori. 5 —

Per H taoriBtani greci e altri. -6W

Regalio aeUa caia delta Madona» e eerolio, e nella oan<di Simieoey •

nelcoavenio del) Suriani ; e nel apitale di Sta. Elena, e nella can de

Ana^ e nella nugoga delU Ebrei. 9 10

item, RegaUo nel eonTento delli Armenidi Sr. Giacomo» alfi •ervitori»

aacrestinoy e genisari. ------ -88 —

Regallo nel Sepolero della Madona, alii sacrettani, e nel Monte Olibette. S 10 Al servitore del governatore 41 negro, e nel cartello. -------§£•

Fer lavara la robba del Sige. e suoi servitori. -----»----$ —

AlUpoveriin tuttoilgiro. -----------•-•. --5. 9S

Itegallo nelconventodelliGreoi in «hieaa al saereitano, alU servitori, e

alii genisei-i --•---.------------- 18 —

4 eaTalcatare peril sige.suo drogooianv, e Michèle da Gierunlemme

ii no a Giaffa, e •qaella di Miehele per andare e ritomare la seconda relta. 40 ^

Counpania a 6 inaolote, ogni pertooa 4lelli sigri. •-•ISSO

Villano. 3 —

Cafarro 4«4

Regallo alti geniseri. 20 —

Regallo a volti di Sr. Geremia .--' 50 —

RegaUo alii dragomani. ^ 50 —

RegaUo alii eommuniere. - - ------ 10 —

Al Portinaro Malia. -- ----. 5 —

Al SpendUarc. --- - 5 —

In Betlemrae una cavaiontnra per la itrovisione del Giordano, orzo 4

AraUiaduevillaiii; regallo alii capi esenitori 172 —

At! Agha figlio d Abagiahfar 150 —

item, Zbirri, povcri e guardici ne calure ai Smo. Sepolero, ruIUmo|;ioroa 10 —

804 29 A Miehele Casar 80— Alcasnaro 20. 100 —

' . 90i -«9

We must fheR, to Uie first pkce, reduce this great number of pilgrims, at least as far as regards the CatholicB, to a very small matter, <^r to nothing; at all ; for seven, twelve, twenty, thirty, naj, even a hundred pilgrims arc not worth reckoning.

But if this dozen of pilgrims, who, for the last century or two, liave annually visiled the Holy Sepulchre, were poor travellers, the fathers of the Floly Land cuuld scarcely enrich themselves tvith what they left beliiod. Let us hear what honest Doubdaa «a^s :


^ The religious who live there, (at the couvent of St Saviour,) subject (o the ru^e of St. Fraucis, keep up a very strict poverty, aud Bubsist eiUirelj upon the alms and benefactions transmitted lothem from Gbrtstendum, and the presents made them by the pilgrims, according to their respective abilities : but as the latter are far from their uwn country, and know not what great ex^ penses they may incur during their return, their alms are in- consîderatMè ; but this does not prevent their being received and treated with great kindness."

Thus the pilgrims to the Holy .Land, who are said to leave treasurtïs behind them in Jerusalem, cannot be Catholic pilgrims; consequently, that part of these treasures which falls to the share of tbe convents, does not come into the hands of the Latin monks. If these Delicious receive alms from Europe, these alms^ so far from enriching them, are not sufficient for the preservation ' of the holy stations, which are everywhere crumbling in ruins, and must soon be forsaken for want of support. The poverty of these religious is, therefore, proved by tbe4inanimous testimony of travellers. I have already spoken- of their sufferings : were other proofs wantin«;, here they are :

^* As it was a French monk," says iather Roger, *^ who gained possession of the holy places at Jerusalem, so the first of the religious who suffered martyrdom was a Frenchman, named Limin, of the province of Touraine, who was beheaded at Grand Cairo. Some time after, brother James and brother Jeremiah . were pnt to death without the gates of Jerusalem. Brother Conrad d^Alis Barthélémy, of Monte Politiano, in the province of Tuscany, was sawed in two from the head downwards, in Grand Cairo. Brother John d'Ether, a Spaniard of the province of Castile, was cut in pieces by the bashaw of Casa.* Seven re- ligious were decapitated by the Sultan of Egypt, and two were flayed alive in Syria.

" In the year 1637 the Arabs martyre J the whole community of friars who were on the sacred mount of Sion, to the number of twelve. Some time afterwards, sixteen religious, both eccle- siastics and laics, were carried from Jerusalem and imprisoned at Damascus, (this was at the time when Cyprus was taken by the king of Alexandria,) and there remained five years, till one after another perished for wapt. Brother Cosmo was killed by the

3 C


Torka at the door of the Holy Sepulchre, where he preacbed tbe doctrines of ChriBtiaoity. Two other friar8,at Damasca», received BO many atrokea of the bastinado, that they died on the spot. 6ix religious were put to death by the Arabs one night whilst at matins in the convent built at Anathot, in the house of the prophet Jeremiah, which they afierwards burned. It would be abusing the patience of the reader to enter into the particMlars of all the sufferings and persecutions which our poor reU^ious have endured aince they have had the care of the holy places. These bavc kept increasing since the year 1627, when our religious settled there, as will be seen from what follows," etc/

Deshayes, the ambassador, speaks in the same tenus of the persecutions experienced by the fatliera of the Holy Land from • the hands of the Turks.

  • ' The poor religious who attend these places are also induced

sometimes to such extremities, for want of asaietance from Chris- tendom, that their condition is truly deplorat>le. Their whole revenue consists in the alms which are sent them ; and which are net sufficient to cover one half of the expenses which they, ate obliged to incur ; for, exclusively of tiieir subsistence, and the great number of lights which must be kept up, they are forced to be continually giving to tbe Turks, if they would live in peace; and when they possess not the means of satisfying their avarice they must go to prison.

<< Jerusalem is at such a distance from Constantinople, that the king^a ambassador, resident there, cannot receive information of the oppressions practised upon them till long afterwards. Mean- ^ while they suffer and endure, if they have not money to redeem themselves; and very often the Turks, not content witlt persecu- ting them in their persons, likewise convert their churches into mosques."!

I oould fill whole volumes with similar testimonies, contained in the works of travellers in Palestine : I will produce only one more, but that shall be unanswerable.

This testimony I find in a monument of iniquity and oppression» perhaps without any parallel in the world; a monument of the great- er authority, as it was designed to remain in everlasting oblivion. The fathers liad p< rraitied me to examine the library and the

  • 0«seript de 1« Terre Siunte, iv 436. f ^'^*Se ^ Lefan^ p. 46^


ârebires of their conveiit. Unfortunately, these archirea and this library were dispersed near a century ago; a pacha threw th«  relSpous in iron^, and carried thein prisoners to Damaât^u». Some papers escaped the devastation; in particular the finnans, which ih« fathers had obtained either from the Porte, or the rulers of E^pt, to deff nd themselres against the oppressions of the people àâd 'their governors.

This carious document is entitled :

Registre delli Cajpiiolazioni^ Catiisceriji, BaraiHy C^nnomda^ mentis Og^ettu Jtlestazianiy Senienzh Ordini des Soêcia^ Q%i> did e Polizze^ che si trovano full ardiivio di quuta procurorgene^ faUdi Terra Smtfi.

Under the letter H, No. l,p. 369, we read :

^Instrumento del re saraceno Aluzafar, contiene: che non na dlmandato del vino da i religiosi franchL Dato alii 13 delta Inna di Regeb dell anno 414."

Under No. 2, is the following :

  • ' Instrumento' del ré saraceno Matamad contiene : che li refr-

giosi franchi non siano molestati. Dato alii 2 di Spiaval dell anno 501e

Under No. 5, page 370 s

" lostrumento con la sua ;copia del re saraceno Âmed Ciak* mak contiene : che li religiosi franchi non paghino a quel xnims* tri, che non vengono per gli affari dei frati— ^possino sepelire i loro morti, possino fare vino, proTizione— ^non siano obligati a montre cavalli per forea in Rama — non diano yisitate loro poa- tessToni — che nessuno pretenda d'esser drogloromanno, s»non alcuno appoggio. Dato alii' 10 di Sefer 600.

Several of the firmans begin thus :

  • ^ Copia autenticata d'un commendamenèo ottenuto ad instan^

za dell ambasciadore di Francia,^' &c.

We see, then, the unfortunate fathers, the guardians of the tomb of Christ, solely occupied for several centuries in 4efending themselves day by day against every species of tyranny and insult. We see them obliged to obtain permission to subsist, to bury their dead, &c. Sometimes they are forced to ride without occasion, that they may be neeesl^itated to pay the duties ; at «others, a Turk proclaims himself their drogman in spite of them, tnd demands a salary from the community. The Inost absurd


ioTentiODS of OrienUI despotism are exhansted agâins^t fliese ' hapless monks.* In vain do they obtain for exorbitant dims, orders which apparently secure them from all this iU usaçe: these orders are not obeyed; each successive year witnec^esa new oppression, and requires a new firman. The equivocMing governor, and the prince, ostensibly their protector, are two ty. rants who concert together, the one to commit an injustice' be- fore the law is enacted, the other to sell, at an enormous price, a law that is not issued till after the commission ^of tb« crime. The register of the firmans of the fathers is a valuable* record^ worthy in every respect of the library of those apostles, whoi, io the midst of tribulations, adhere with Invincible constancy to the tomb of Christ. The fathers were not aware of the value of this evangelical catalogue; they had no idt* a (hat it cou Id inte- rest me ; they saw nothing curious in it ; to suffer is to tliem so natural that my astonishment actually astonished them. . Great, indeed; and sincere was my admiration of their courageous en- durance of so~ many afflictions ; but deeply too was 1 affected on finding frequent repetitions on this head: Copy of a firtnan^ obtained oti the solicitation of the French ambassador. Honour be to a country which, from the midst of Europe, extends her care 'to the onfortuaate m the remote regions of Asia, and protects the weak against the strong ! Never, O land of my nativity, didst thou appear to me greater and more glorious than when 1 dis^ covered the acts of thy beneficence concealed at Jerusalem in the register in which are inscribed the unknown sufferings of a few oppjeitsed religion», and the unheard-of iniquities of the basest of oppressors!

How is it possible to conceive that a man of talents, whq prides himself on independent ideas, can have taken a pleasure in calumniating the unfortunate ! There is a something superior to all opinions — that Is justice. If a philosopher of the present day were to write a good book ; if he were to do what is still better, to perform a good action ; if be displayed noble and ele- vated sentiments, I, who am a Christian, would applaud him without reserve. And why should not a philosopher act in the aame manner towards a Chrietian I because a man wears a mo- ^ Two of the religious narrowl; escaped being put to death at Jemsalenix he- Mutse 1^ cat h«d faliea into Uie eitteni of the €QDTent.«-/2^er, p. 3^0.


nastie faabii, a long beard, a cord girdle, must we allow him no merit for atiy sacrifice ? For my part, I would ^go to the end of the world in que^t of é Tirtue in a votary of Visbnou or the Grand Lama, that I .might enjoy the happinesB of admiring it* Generou» actions are now a^days too rare for us not to honour them under whatever , habit tliey may be discoveredi and t«  make siich nice didiinctionB between the robe of a priest and the mantle of a philosopher.

Very early in the morning of ^he lOfh, I sallied forth from Je- rusalem by the gate of £phrairo,* accompanied as usual by the fakhful Ali, with a view to examine the fields of battle immortal- • ized by Tasso. Proceeding to the north of the city, when I was between the grotto of Jeremiah and the Royal Sepulchres, I -opened the Jerusalem Delivered^ and was immediately struck with tW accuracy of the poet's description :

On two unequal liills the city stands,

A vale between divides the higher lands.

Three sides without, impervious to the foes ;

The northern side an easy passage shows,

IVith sipooth ascent ; but well thej. guard the par^

With lofty walls and laboured works of art.

The city, lakes and living springs contams, And oistei'&s to receive the falling rains : But bare of herbage b the country round; Jf or springs nor streams refresh the barren grdand^ No tender flower exalts its cheerful head : No stately trees at noon their shelter spread ; Save where, two leagues reibote, a wood ap^iean, . £nibrown*d with nououa shade, the growth of years» • Where morning gilds the city's eastern side . The sacred Jordan poors its gentle tide. Extended lie against the setting day The sandy borders of the midland tea : Samaria to the north, and Bethel's wood, Where to the ipolden calf the altar ftood : ^

And on the rainy south» the hallowed earth Of Bcthlem, where the tord reeeivM bishirtfa.* .

Nothing can be more clear, more precise, more expliciti than this description ; had it been composed on the spot, it could not

  • This, and all the tucdeeding quotations from Tasso, are taàea from Hoole's

tfftDilation of the Jerusalem Delivered.— TVaiutolpr*

37Ô TRArBLfl nr grcscb, valibtinb,

be more exact The wood, placed at the distance tt sn mtlN from the camp, on the Arabian side, is no poetical* iu?ention: William of T^re «peaky of the wood \^here ,Tas80 has laid the scenes of so many enchaiitmenta. Here Godfrey procured lim* her for the construction of his military engines. It will be seea how closed Tasso had studied the Originals» when I come to quote the historians of the Crusades.

E'l eapltano . Foi ch*intorno ha xnirato^ a i suoi diseende.

From the hills descends The Christian ehief, and joins liis warlike friends. The eitj" TiewM| he deems th* attempt were vain O'er araggy roeka the steepy pass to gain. Then on the ffroand* that rofe with smooth aseen^ •

Against the norOiern gate he pitch'd his tent ; And thence pk-oceeding to the comer tower, Enoamp^'d at length the remnant of his power ; But could .not h^|f the -city V walls enclose. So wide around the apaeions bulwarks rose» But Goflfrey w«ll secures each several way That might assistance to tlie towA eon^ey.

Tott are absolutely transported to the spot. The camp extends from the gate of Damascus to the corner tower at the source of the brook Cedron and the entrance of the yalley of Jehoshaphat. The ground between the city and the camp ia exactly as Tasso bas represented it, very level and well .adapted for a field of bat* tie, at the foot of the walls of Solima. Aladine is seated with Erminia io'a tower situated between two gates, whence they sur- vey (he combat in the plain, and the camp of the Christians. This tower is still standitog, with several others, between the gate of Damascus and (hat of Ephraim.

In the episode of Oiintio and Sophronia, in the second book» we meel^with two extremely correct local descriptions:

• Net tempia de Cristiani oeeuHo giaoc, &e.

An altar by the Christian Aands immur*d Deep under ground from vulgar eyes seeur'd » The statue of their goddess thorc is showed. The mother of their human, buried god.

This chin'ch, now denominated the Sepulchre of the Virgin, stands in the valley of Jehosbaphat, and has been described in a

^ >« XGTfT, AND .BAllBiET» S7l

proecding page. . TasBO, by a license granted to ^poets, places ibXB eburcb within the walls of Jerosalem.

The mosque^ in which tJie image of the Virgin is set op, agreeably to thç advice of the sorcereti is evidently the mqsque •f the Temple,

lo Ik donde rieere ^ L'alta vostra meschita e l'aura eM die, lt«.

Where (fae high dome receives the air and ligh^ I found a passage, favoured by the night

The first 'onset of the adventorers, the single combats of Argantes, Otho, Tancred, and Raymond of Tonlonse, take place before the ^ate of Ephraim. WhenArmida arrives from Da- mascus, she enters, says the poet, at the extremity of the camp* It was in reality near the gate of Damascus, on the west side, that the last tents of the Christians must have stood.

I pl^ce the a<hniiable scene of Erminia's flight towards the Borthem extremity of the valley bf Jehoshapfaat. When Tan- éred*s lover had passed the gate of Jerusalem with her faithful squire, we. are told that she

•went Obliq[ueiy winding down the hilVs descent.

She could not therefore have lefl^the city ^y the gate of Ephraim, for the road leading from that gate to the camp of the crusaders passes over perfectly level ground ;; she chose rather to make her eaca^ie by the ea9tern gate, which was less liable to suspicion, and guarded with less vigilance.

Erminia arrives in solUaria ed ima parte^ in a deep and solitary recess ; she directs her attendant to go and speak to Tancred. fHiis deep and solitary recess is distinctly marked atj^ upper «nd of the valley of Jehoshaphat, before you turn the northern angle of the city. There Erminia might await in safety the return of her messenger : but unable to conquer her impatience, ehe. ascends the eminence, and descries the distant tents. In fact, on leaviog the channel of the brook Cedron, and proceeding northward, a person must have perceived (he camp of the Chris, tians on. the left. Then follow tbo^e admirable stanzas: <


. Now ivas the night in starry lustre seen.

And not a oloud obeeurU the blue serene :

The rising morn her tilrer b^ums di8i>lâj*d.

Ant) devk'd withpeurh dew the dusky glade»

"With anxious soul ih^ enamour'd virgin strays

From thooght V> ihoui^ht in love'e perplcxuig m^ze;

And vents her tender plaints and bre»thes her sighs

To all the silent fields and eonsctous skies. Then, fondly gazing on the camp» she said ;

Te Latian tents, by me with joy sut-vey'd !

From you raethinks the gales mora gently blow.

And seem alresdy to relieTe my wo ! ^

So may kind HeaTen afford a milder statfi

To this unliapp> -ife, the sport of fate f

A a 'tis from you 1 seek t* assuage &\y care»

And hope alone for peace in scenes of war !

Receive me then, and may my wishes find ' That bliss which love has promised to my mind;

Which e'en my worst of fortune could aflTonl,

When made the captive of my dearest lord !

I seek not U'lw, inspired with fancies vain.

By you my regal honours to regain ; ' Ah ifO ! be this my happiness and pride/

Within your shelter humbly to reside 1 So spoke the hapless fair, who Ultle knew

n^w near her sudden change of fortune drew- ;

For* pensive .while site stood, the cloudless moon

Full on th^ unheedful maid with splendor shone ;

Her sflow«white vesture caught the silver beam ;

Her polish'^ arms return'd a trembling gleam ;

And on her lofty crest, the tigress raisM,

With all the terrors of Clorlnda blazd. When lo! (so wilPd her fate) a numerous hand . .

Of Chri^n scouta were ambiish'd near at faandj

Tliese Polyphcrnes and Alcander guide*

Alcander and Polyphernes must have l^eeo Btationed some- where near the Royal Sepulchres. It is ta be regretted that TasBO has given no description of these subterraneous monu- ments, for the delineation of which his genius peculiarly quali- fied him.

It is not BO easy to determine the spot where the fuptive Er- Bmiia meets with the shepherd on the bank of the river ; but as there is but one river in this country, and as Erminia has left Jerusalem by the eastern gate, it is probable that Tasso meant to place this charming scene on the shore of the Jordan. In


tills case, I acknowledge it to be an tmaccountable cireuoutance that he has not mentioned the name of the riTer> but it is certain that this great poet jias not adhered so closelj as he ought to have done to scriptural records, from which Milton had elicited so many beauties.

As to the lake and castle in which the enchantress Ârmida confines the knights whom she has seduced, Tasso himself informs us that the lake here meant is the Dead Sea :

At length we drev to where. In dreadful ire,

HeaTpn rainM V old on eftpth a stoorm of fire,

T* avenge the wrongs wbiph Nature*» laws endorM •

On that dire race to wicked deeds inured ;

Where onee were fertile lands and meadow'i green,

Kow a deep bke with sulpVroiis waves was seen.

One of thé finest passages in the poem is the attack of the tlhristian camp by ^olyman. The sultan marches in the night amid the thickest darkness, for, according to the sublime exprès^ èioa of the poet,

A deeper gloom èxuUing Pluta made. With added terrorAfrom th' infernal shade,

The camp is assailed on the west side. Godfrey, who commands the centre of the army towards the north, js not apprised jtill late that the right widg is engaged. Solyman has been prevented from attacking the left wing, thongh nearest to the desert, because4here were deep ravines in that quarter. The Arabs, concealed during the day in the valley of Turpentine^ sally from it at night to at- tempt the deliverance of Jerusalem.

Sqlymao, being discomfited, pursues alone the way to Gaza. He ia met by Ismeno, th^ magician, who conveys himin an enchanted chariot, enveloped in a cloud, through the camp of the Christians, to Mount Sion, in Jerusalem. This episode, admirable on other accounts, is accurate in localities, as far as the exterior of the castle of David, near the gate of Jaffa or Bethlehem ; but there is an error in what follows. The poet has confounded, or perhaps chosen to confound, the tower of David with that of Anto- ma; the latter stands at a considerable distance from the former,



in the lower part of the city, at the northern Migle of the Temple.

When on the spot, you may fancy that you behold Godfrey'» troops setting out from the gate of Ephraim, turning to the eaat, descending into the valley of Jehoshapbat, and proceeding like pious and peaceable pilgrim» to pray to the Almighty on the Mount of Olive». Be it here remembered that this Christian procession strongly reminds u» of Ihe pomp of the Panâthenœa celebrated at Eleusb in the midst of the troops of Alcibiade». Tbsbo, Who had read every thing, who incessantly imitates Virgil, Homer, and the other poets of antiquity, has here given, in beau- tiful verses, one of the finest scenes of the »tory. It may likewise be added that this procession is moreover a historical fact, related by the anonymeu» writer, Robert the monk, and William of Tyre.

We now come to the first assault The engines are planted before the north wall. Tasso is here most scrupulously accurate;

Non era U ((mo di palartreUmo

(Che nol eoniento in loeo) od*Mqfa molle.

This is strictly true. The ditch on the north is a dry ditch,or rather a natural pavine, like the other ditches of the city.

In the circomitances of the first assault the poet has followed hi» own geoiu» without adhering to historical fact ; and as his plan would not allow him to keep pace with the chronicler, be represent» thé principal engine of the besiegers as having been burned by the infidels, which rendered it necessary to begin, the work again. It I» certain that the besieged set fire to one of the towers of the assuling army. Tasso has extended this accident as niuch a» hi» plot required.

Next follows the terrible combat between Tancred and Clorin- da, the most pathetic fiction that ever sprung from the ima^natioo of a poet. The scene of action may easily be ascertained. Clorinda being unable to regain the Dorean gate with Argantes, is consequently below the temple in the valley of Siloé, Tancred pursues her ; the battle begins ; the expiring Clorinda solicits bap- tism» Tancred, more unfortunate than his victim, fetches water from a neighbouring stream, and by this the spot i» determined ;

Hàtdît^tfSuv adown the 190M7 bUV In gentle mùrmun roird a orytUl HW.

This is thefoantaiii of Siloe, or rather Maiy's FottntaiD, which thus springs from the foot of Mount Sion*

I know not whether the picture of the drought, delineated in the thirteenth book, foe not the most exifhisite passage of the whole poem^ Here Tasso equals Homer and Virgil. It is a highly finished piece of composition, and is distingaished by an energy and purity of style in which the other parts of the work are sometimes deficient :

The tan ne'er rites eheerfol to the sigfat» But sanguine spots distain his saored light : Pate hoTerÎBg mists around his forehead play» The sad forerunners of a fatal daj ; His setting orb in erimson seems to moom, D^nonncing greater woes at his return ; And adds new horror» to the pretent-doom» By certain fear of eTÎls yet to eome.

All nature pants beneath the burning skj : The earth is eleft, the lessening streams are dty *- The barren eloadi, like streaky flames divide, IXspenM and broken through the sultry Toid,- No cheerful object for the sight remaioa 1 Each gentfe gale its graceful breath retains t Alone the -wind from Lybia's sands respires^ And bums each varrior^s breast with secret fires» Nocturnal meteors blaze in dusky air» Thick lightnmgs flash, and KvSd comets glare. No pleasing moiature nature's face rene va 9 Th^ moon no longer sheds her pearly dews. To cheer the mourning earth ; the pfaint» and flowers In Tain require the soft and vital showers.

Sweet slomher ffies from çyery restless night» tn vain would men his balmy pow*r invite ; Sleepless they lie s but far above the rest» The rage of thirst their fainting souls oppress'd ; iPor, vers*d in guile» Judea's impious king With poisonous juice had tainted every springs (Whose currents now with dire pollution flow» , Like Styx and Acheron in realms below. *

  • The slender stream where Siloa't gentle wave

Once to the Chrbtians draqghts untainted gave* Now scarcely murmurs» in his channels dry. And yields their fainting host a small' supply^


fort» agaÎHst the comer tower, which afterwards assumed the name of Tancred's tower.

Tasso likewise follows the chronicles in the circumstances and ihe result of the assault. Ismeno, accompanied by two ma- gicians, is killed by a stone hurled from an engine : two sorce- resses actually met that fate on the waHs, at the taking of Jerusa- lem. Godfrey looks up,' and beholds celestial warriors fighting for him on every side. This is a fine imitation of Homer and Virgil ; but it is also a tradition from the times of the crusaded.

    • Thé dead," says father Nau, " entered with the living: for se*

Tcral distinguished crusaders, who died before their arrival, and, among the rest, Ademar, the virtuous and zealous bishop of Pny, in Auvergne, appeared upon the walls ; as 'if the gloiy which they enjoyed in the heavenly Jerusalefn required the accession of that to be derived from viùting the terrestrial one, and ador- ing the Son of God upon the scene of his ignominy and sutTerings, as they worshipped him on the throne of his majesty and power.

The city was taken, as the poet relates, by means of bridges, which were projected from engines, and fell upoil the rampajrts* Godfrey and Gastou de Fois had furnished the plan of theee ma- chines, which were constructed by Pisan and Genoese sailors. The whole account of this assault, in which Tasso has displayed the ardour of h"is chivalrous genius, is true, except what relates to RInaldo; that hero being a mere fiction of the poet, his actions must also be imaginary. There was no warrior of the nane of Uinaldo d'Este at the siege of Jerusalem ; the first Christian that scaled the walls was not a knight named Rinaldo, butlietolde, a Flemish gentleman, of Godfrey's retinue. He was followed by Guicher, and Godfrey hin&self. The stanza, in which Tasso de- scribes the standard of the cross overshadowing the towers of Je- rusalem delivered, is truly sublime :

Tlie eonqaering banner to tbe breeze unroll'd Redundant streama in many a waving fold : The winds with awe eonfeas tlie heavenly ugu. With purer beams the day appears to shine : The swords seem bid to turn their poinu awty, And dai-ts around it innocently play; The sacred mount the pui«ple cross adores, , And Sion owns it from her topmost towers.


All th^ hiatoriaos of the onisades record the piety of Godfrey, the geoeroslty of Tancred,aod thejastiee and prudence of the. count da St, Gilles. Anna Gomnena herself speaks with com- mendation of the latter : the ppet has therefore adhered to history, in the delineation of his heroes. When he invents characters, he at least makes them consistent with manners. Argantes is a genuine Mameluke :

The other chief from fair Cireasna came To Bg7pt*8 ooartf Argaotea was his name : Exalted midst the princes of the land» And first in rank of all the martial band ; Impatient, fierjy and ofi rage unqueird, In arms ancooquer'd, matchless in the field; Whose in^pions soul contempt of heaven atoir'd, UJa sword his law, his own right hand his god.

In Solyman is faithfully portrayed a sultan ^f the early times of the Turkish empire. The poet, who fails not to avail himself of, every historical recollection, makes the sultan of Nice an ancestor of the great Saladin ; and it is obvious that he meant to delineate Saladin himself in the character of his progenitor. Should the work of Dom Bertheleau ever be laid before the pub- lic, we shall be better acquainted with the Mahometan heroes of Jerusalem. Dom Bertbeleau translated the Arabian authors who liave written the history of the crusades. This valuable perform- ance was intended to form part of the cbllectipn of French liistorians.

I am not able to fix the exact spot where the ferocious Argan- tes is slain by the generous Tancred ; but it must be sought in the vallies between the west and north. It cannot be placed to the west of the corner tower which Tancred assaulted ; for, iq thb case, Erminia could not have met the wouuded hero as she was returning from Gaza with Vafrino.

The last action of the poem, which in reality took place near Ascalon, Tassb has laid with exquisite judgment under tjbe walls' of Jerusalem^ Historically considered, this action is of little im«  portance ; but, in a poetical point of view, it is a battle superior to any in Virgil, and equal to the grandest of Homer's combats.

I shall now give the siege of Jerusalem, extracted from our old chrooicles, so that the reader may have an opportunity of com- paring the poem with history.

380 YRAT£L8 I^ SRm£€£y FALfiVTIfTCy

Of all the hittorians of the crusades, Robert the monk ia most firequentty quoted. The anonymous writer in the collection en- titled *' Gesta Dei per Francos," is more ancient ; but his narrative is too dry. William of Tyre falls into the contrary defect. For these reasons Robert is consulted in preference ; his style is affect- ed; he copies the turns of the poets; but on this veiy account, notmthstandJDg his points and his puns,^ he is less barbarous than Lis contemporaries ; he has, moreover, a certain degree of taste, and a brilliant imagination.

" The army encamped ia this order about Jerusalem. The counts of Flanders and Normandy pitched their tents on the north, side, not far from the churchf erected on the spot where Stephen» the first martyr, was stoned. Godfrey and Tancred placed them- selves on the west ; anil the count de St. Gilles took a position to the sonth, on Mount Sion,| round about the church of Mary, the mother of our Saviour, formerly the house in which the Lord held the last supper with his disciples. The tents being thus disposed, while the troops, fatigued with their march, rested themselves, and constructed the machines necessary for the at- tack, Raimond Pilet,^ and Raimond de Turenne, proceeded from the camp with several others to reconnoitre the neighbouring country, lest the enemy should fall upon the crusaders before they were prepared. They met by the way with three hundred Arabs ; they killed many of them, and took thirty horses. The second day of the third week, June 13th, 1Û99, the French at- tacked Jerusalem, but they could not take it that day. Their efforts, however, were not wholly useless: they threw down the enter wall, and set up ladders against the principal one. Had iliey but possessed a sufficient number of them, this first attempt

  • Papa Urbanua nrbano termone peroravit^ ko. VaUit apaciota vt apecioaOy

Ieo. Our old hymns are full of the^e plajs upon vords. Quo came carmt ccnditor, Sic.

t The texUia>9ji^te tceleaiam : wltieh I ha've trantHitoâ, nêtfarjrom the church i beenuâe tbla church is not to the north, but to the east of Jerusalem s «nd all the other historians of the crusades relate, that the eoanCa of Nonaandjr and Flanders placed themselves between the east and the north.

i The text sajs : scilicet iu monte Sion, This proves that the city, baflt bj Adrian, did not include the -whole of Mount Sion, and that the site «f Jemsalec^ al that time was exactly the same as it is at present

§ PiletuMi or, as he is elsewhere called, Fititueuxku, Pelez,


liad been the last Those who ascenâed the ladders maintained a long conflict against the enemy with swords and spears, fif any of our people fell in this assault, but the loss of the Saracens was much more considerablel JS'ight put an end to the action, and gave rest to both sides. The faihire of this first attempt certainly occasioned our army much toil and trouble, for our troops were without bread for ten days, till our ships arrived in the port of Ja9a. They moreover suffered exceedingly front thirst ; the fountain of Siloe, at the foot of Mount Sion, oouhl scarcely -supply the troops, and they were obliged to send the horses and other animals, attended by a numerous escort, six miles from the camp to watev.

'* Though the fleet which arrived at JafAt furnished (he besiegert with provisions, they still sulfered as much as ever from thirst. So great was the drought during the sie«;e, that thç soidlere dug holes in the ground, and pre-^sed the damp cldds to their lips • they licked the stones wet with dew ; they drank the putrid wa- ter which had stood in the fresh hide» of buffaloes and other animals ; and many abstained from eating, in the hope of mitigat- ing, by hunger, the|>angs of thirsL

^ Meanwhile the generals caused large pieces of timber to be brought from a great distance for the construction of engines and towers. When these towers were finished, Godfrey placed his on the east side of the town; and the count de St Gilles erected one exactly like it to the south. These arrangements being made, oo the fifth day of the week the crusaders fasted, and distributed alms among the poor* On the sixth day, which was the 12th of July, ttie sun rose with brilliancy ; the towers were manned with chosen troops, who threw op ladders against the walls of Jerusa^^ lem. The bastard inhabitants of the holy city were filled with consternation,* when they found themselves besieged by so vast a multitude. Bot as they ware on all sides threatened with their last hour, as death impended over their heads ; certain of falling, they thought only how to sell the rest of their lives as dearly as

  • Stupent et eantrûndêcuni adulterini dvêê urhit exermùe. The ezpreincii

ia not leM beautiful than true ; for the Sarftoeni were oot only, as foreigner!» the bastard eîtizent, the illegitimate children, of Jeratalem, bat they might likewise be termed adutteritd, on aeoonnt of their mother Hagar, sod ia rcfereaoe t» tho legitimate posterity of Abraham by Sarah.

S E^


poBBÎble. Meanwhile, Godfrey posted hîmeelf at the top of hk lowf r, not as a foot soldier, but as an archer. The Lord guided his hand in the combat, and all the arrows dia('.har«:ed by him pierced the enemy through and through. Near this warrior were two brothers, Baldwin and Eustace, like two lions beside another lion : they received terrible blows from stones and darts, which they returned to the foe with usury.

^* While they were thus engaged on the walls of (he city, a profession was made round those same walls with the crosses, relics, and sacred altars.* The victory remained unceHain during

' part of the day ; but at the hour when the Saviour of the world gave up the ghost, a warrior name^ Letolde, who fought in God- frey's tower, leaped the first upon the ramparts of the city. He was followed by Geiober, that Guinher who had vanquished a lion; Godtrey was the tliird, and all the other knights rushed on after their chief/ Throwing aside their bows and arrows, they now drew tîieir çwords. At this sight the enemy abandoned the walls, and ran down into the city ; whither the soldiers of Christ, with loud shouts, pursued'them.

'^he count de 8t. Gilles, who on his part was endeavouring to bring up his machines to the walls, heard the clamour. ' Why,' said he to his men, ' do we linger here ? The French are masters of Jerqsalem ; fhey are making it resound with their voices and their blows.' Quickly advancing to the gate near the castle of David, be called to those who were in the castle, and summoned them to surrender. As soon as the Emit knew that it was the csount de St. Gilles, he opened the gate, and committed himself to the faith of that venerable warrior.

    • But Godfrey, with the French, was resolved to avenge the

Christian blood spilt by the infidels in Jerusalem, and to pnnish them for the railleries and outrages to which they had subjected the pilgrims. Never bad he in any conflict appeared so terrible, not even when he encountered the giant on tlie bridge of Antiocfa. Guicher, and several thousands of chosen warriors.- cut the Sara- cens in two from the head to the waisi, or severed their t>odies

, in the middle. None of our soldiers showed timidity, for fhey met with no opposition. The enemy sought only to escape ; but

  • Sacra aUaria. This vonld seem to be applicable only to a pagsn

ny\ but it is probable that th« ChristuuiB had portable altars in theh* caair^






to theiB flight wa» impossible v they rushed along in snch crowds that they embarrassed one another. The small number of those who contrived to escape, took refuge in Solomon's temple, and there defended themselves a considerable time. At dusk our soldiers gained possession of the temple, and in their rage put to death all whom they found there. Such was the carnage, that the mutilated carcasses were hurried by the torrents of blood into the court; dissevered arms arid hands floated in the current, that carried them to be united to bodies to which t|iey had never belouge*!.** , •

In concluding the description of the places celebrated by Tasso,. ) feel happy in having had an opportunity of being the first to pay to an immortal poet the same honour which others before me had rendered to Homer arid Virgil. Whoever has a relish for the beauty, the art^ the interest of a poetic composition; for rich- ness of detail, for truth of character, for generosity of sentiment, should make the Jerusalem Delivered his favourite study. It is in a particular manner the poem of the soldier ; it breathes valour and glory ; and as 1 have elsewhere ojiiserved^ it seems to hare been written upon a buckler in the midst of camps.

I spent about five hours in lîxandining the theatre of the bat- tles described by Tasso. This, theatre occupies' very little more than half a league of ground ; and the poet has so strongly disr eriminated the. vfyrious scenes of action, that they may be discor vered at a single glance.

As we were returning to the city by tlie; valley of Jehoshapbat, we met the pacha's cavalry coming -back from its expedition. It is impossible to copceire tiie joyous and triun^phant aspect of these troops after their victory over the sheep, goats, asses, and horses of a few pooi^ Arabs on the b.Hnks of the Jordan.

This is the proper place to say something concerning the go^ Temment of Jerusalem. There is, in the first place :

1. A mosaliam, or sangiack, the commander of the militaiy.

2. A moula cadi, or minister of police*

3. A mufti, the chief of thé santons and lawyers. When this mufti is a fanatic, or a bad man, like him who held that oflice when I was at Jerusalem, "he has it in his power to tyrannise over the Christians more than any of the other authorities.


4. A montenelf , or colleolor of the duties at the monpie «T Solomon.

6. A bouInicIù, or sheriff of the city.

These subaltern tyrants are ail» with the eveeplibn of the mufti, dependent on a principal tjrant, and this is the paeba of Damascus.

Jerusalem is comprehended in the pachalik of Damasens, for what reason I know not^ unless it be a result of that destraetive system which u naturally ^ and, as it were, insdnetiTely pursued by the Tuiics. Cut off from Damascus by mountains,* and atitt more by the Arabs, who infest the deserts, Jerusalem oaonpt i#- ways prefer its complaints to the pacha, when oppressed Jiy its gOTemors. It'would be much more natural to make it depenA> ent on the pacbalik of Acre, which lies near it ; the Franks and the Latin fathers might then place themselTes under the ptotee» tion of the consuls residing in the ports of Syria;, and the Greeks and Turks would be aUe to make known their gnevanees. But this is the very thing that their governors are desirous of prevent* iag ; they would hare a- mute ala?eiy, a«4 "^^^^ insolent wretdiea who dare complain of the hand that oppresses them.

Jerusalem is, therefore, at the mercy of an almost independent governor : he may do with impunity all the mischief he pteaaes, if be be not a^rwards called to account for it hy the pacha. It is well known that in Turkey every supmorhas a right to dele-^ gate his authority to an inferior ; and this auttiorily extends hotb to property and life. For a few purses a janissary may beoomo a petty aga, and this aga ms^, at his good pleasure, eiâier take away your life^^or permit you to redeem it.. Thus executioneri Are multiplied in every town of Judea. The only thing ever heard in this country, the only justice ever thought of, is: LA him pay ten, imeniy, Mrty puraes^^Owe fUmfioe hundnd êtrake^^ of the baatifuida^^Cut off his head. One act of injustice rendetv it necessary to commit a still greater. If oae of these petty ty- rants plunders a peasant, he is absolutely obliged to plunder hi» neighbour also ; for« to escape the hypocritical integrity of the pacha, he must procure, by a second crimci sufficient to purohaav impunity for the first.

It may perhaps be imagined that the pacha, wlien he vMf» his government, corrects these evils, and ayenges the wrongs of


Via people. So far from this, however/ the pacha U hiniBelf the (peatcst acoarge of the iohabitants of Jerudalem. fite comiog is dreaded like that of a hostile ehief* The shops are shut up ; the people conceal themselves hi cellars; tbey fei^n to be at tbm point of death on tbéir mats, or withdraw to the monatains.

The troth of these (acts I am able to attest, since I happened to be at Jerusalem at the time of the pacha's visit. Abdallah is sordidly ayaricioos, like almost all the filnssalmen : in the capa- city of commander of the caravan of Mecca, and nnder the pre* text of raising^ money for the better protection of this pilgrims, -lie thinks that be basa right to multiply his extortions; and he is always' devising new ways of fleecing the people. One of tho Biethods which he most frequently employs is to fix a very low naximnm for all kinds of provisions." Hie people are delighted, bot the deniers shut up their.shops. A scarcity commences ; the pacha enters into a secret negotiation with the shop-keepers, and, for a certain number of purses, grants them permission to «ell at any price they please. These m^n are of course désirons te recover thesnms which they have ^en the pacha r they raise the price of necessaries to an extraordinary height, and the peo^ l^e; dying » second time for want, are obliged to part with their tasting to keep themselves from stanring.

I have seen this same Abdallah practise a still more ingénions irexatiotL. I have observed that he sent his cavalry to pillage the Arabian farmers beyond the Jordan* Thes^ poor people, who had piâd the mtri, and who knew that tiiey were not at war, were nrprised in the midst of their tents and of their ^ckl They were robbed of two thousand two hundred sheep aÉd goats^nine* ^fonr calves, a thousand asses, and six mares of the purest blood: the camels alone escaped,* having followed a shieck who «ailed them at a (tistance. These faithful children <rf the desert oarried their milk to their masters in the mountains, as If they bad known thatttiese masters were bereft of every other species of nourishment.

A European could scarcely guess what the pacha did with bis booty. He pat more than twice as high a price upon each amimal as it was worth, rating each goat and sheep at twenty IplastefSi and each calf at eighty. The beasts, thus appraised,

• Of. tbcMS» hsweTcr, t we&t|rHifaiL were tsksa.-


were sent to the batchers, and dijQTerent persons in Jérusalem» «wl to the chiefs of the neighbouring villages, who welre obliged to take them, and pay for them at the pacha's price, upon pain of ^eath. I mast confess that, had 1 not been an eye witness of this double iniquity, I should have thought it absolutely incredi- ble. As to. the asses and borses, they became the property of the soldiers ; for, according to a singular convention beUveea these robbers, all the beasts with .the cloven hoof, taken in such expeditions, belong to the pacha, aiid all the other animals fall to the share of th.e troops.

Having exhausted Jerusalem, the pacha departs ; but in order to save the. pay of the city guards, and to strengthen the .escort of the caravan of Mecca, be takes the soldiers along with tiimp The governor b left behind with about a dozen men, who are insufficient for the police of the city, much lessibr 4hat of the adjacent country* The year before my visit, he was obliged to conceal himself in his homse, to escape the pursuit of a band of robbers, who entered Jerusalem, and were on the point of plun- dering the city.

No sooner is the pacha gone, thaji another evil, the eonse* quence of his oppression, begins to be felt. Insorcections t^e pUce in the plundered villages ; they attack each other, mutnally intent on wreaking hereditary revenge. All commumcatioii is interrupted; agriculture perishes; and the peasant saWes forth at night to pillage his enemy's vine, and to cut down his olive tree; The pacha returns the following year; he demands the same tribute from a country whose population is dimimshed. lo order to raise it, he is olHig^d to redouble his oppressions, and to exter- minate whole tribes. The desert gradually extends ; nothing is to be seen but here and there habitations in ruins, and near them oemeteHes which keep continually increasing: each succeeding year witnesses the destruction of a house, the extinction of a fismify, and soon noUiing is left but this cemetery to oiarjL thsi spot where once stood a village.

Returning to the convent, nt ten in the morning, I completed my examination of the library. Beside the collection of firmans already mentioned, I found an auto$;raph manuscript of the learn- ed Qqaresmius. This Latin manuscript, like all the printed works of the same author, relates to the Holy Land* aome


•fiber Tottiines contained Tarkisb and Arabic papers relative to the Affairs of the convent, Lett^Vs of the CoD|s;regation, Miscel- lanies, &e. I saiv likewise some treatises by fathers of the charch, several pilgrimages to Jerh^alem, the abbé Mariti's work, and * Volney 's excellent Narrative of bis Travels. Father Clement Pérès having discovered, as he tbought, some slight errors in the latter, had noted down his observations on some loose papers, of which he made me a preheat

1 had' seen every thing at Jerusalem. I was acquainted with the interior and exterior of that city, and better acquainted with tifem than with the interior of Paris and its vicinity : I he gan, iherelbre, to think of my departure. The fathers of the Holy Land determined to confer on me an honour which I had neither^ solicited nor deserved. In consideration of the feeble Services i^hich, as they said, I had rendered to religion, they requested me to accept the t>rder of the Holy Sepulchre. This order, of high antiquity in Christendota, though its origin may not date so far back as the time of St. Helena, was formerly Tery common in Burbpe. At present it is scarcely ever met with except in Spain and Poland : the superior of the Latin con- sent, as guardian of the Hofy Sepulchre, has alone the right te . confer it

We left the conveDt at one o'clock, and repaired to the church of the Holy Sepulchre. We went Into the chapel belongiujg to the Latm fathers; the doors were carefully jshut, lest the Turks should perceive the arms, wItSch might cost the religious their lives. The superior put on his pontifical habits; the Iamp6 and tapers were lighted; all the brethren present formed a circle round me, with their hands folded upon their breasts. While they sufig the Fient Creator in a low voice, the flinperlor stepped up to the altar, and 1 fell on my knees at his feet The spars and sword of Godfrey de Bouillon were taken out of the tireasury of the Holy Sepulchre : two of the religious, standing one on e^cb side of me, held the venerable relics. The superior recited the accustomed prayers, and asked me the usual Ijnestions ; he then put the spurs on my heols, and struck me thrice over the shoulders with the sword, on which the religious begiein to sing the Te Deum^ while the superior pronounced thi^ l^rayer over my head :


  • ^ Lord God Almighty, bestow thy grace aod thy bleaeang os

this thy Berrant," &c.

All this is but a shadow of flie days that are past Bat If it is considered that I was at Jerusalem, io the churah of Galrary, within a dozen paces of the tomb of Jesus Christ, and tfnrty firom that of CN>dfrey de Bouillon ; that I was equipped with the apnrs of tlie deliterer of the Holy Sepulchre ; and had touched that sword, both lon^ and large, which so noble and so Taiiaat no arm had once wielded ; if the reader bears In mind these cir* •omstances, my life of adtenture, my peregrinations by land and aea, be will easily believe that I could not remain unmored: neither was this ceremony, in other respects, without effect. I aaa à Frenchman ; Godfrey de Bouillon was a Frenchman; and Ina ancient arms, in touching me, communicated an increased ârdoor for glory and for the bonoor of my country.

My certiôcate, signed by the guardian, and sealed with the teal of the courent, was delirered to me. With this brilliant diploma of knighthood, I received my humble passport of a pil- grim. I preserve them as a record of my visit to the land of the ancient traveller, Jacob. « 

Now that I am about to bid farewell to Palestine, I mnsf re* quest the reader to accompany me once more beyond the wails •r Jeruâslem^ to take a last survey of this extraordinary city.

Let us first pause at the Grotto of Jeremiah, near the royal ^•epolchrea. This is a spacious cavern, the roof of which is aopported by a pillar of stones. Here, as we are told, the pro* phek gave vent to his lamentations, which seem as though they liad been composed within sight of modern Jerusalem, so accu- rately do they portray the state of thi6 desolate city :

" How doth thocity sit solitary that was full of people I how b she become a widow ! she that was great among the nations, and princess among the provinces, how is she become tributary !

^ The ways of Sion do mourn, because none come to the •oTeran feasts : all her gates are desolate : her priests sigh, her virgins are afQicted, and she is in bitterness.

'^^ All ye that pass by, behold, and see if there be any sorrow ike unto my sorrow.

^ The Lord hath purposed to destroy the wall of the daugh- ter of Sion: hç hath bent bis bow like au eûemy; he hath uqt


withdrawn his hand from destroying ; therefore, he made tht «aropartand the wall to lament; thej languished together.

'^ Her gates are sunk into the ground; he hath destroyed «nd broken her bars; her kings and her princes are among the Crentiles; theUaw is no more ; her prophets also find no visioB &om the Lord»

f Mine eyes do fail with tears; my bowels are troubled ; mj liver is ponred upon the earth, for the destruction of the daughter of my people ; because the ch^dren and the suchlings swoon in tte streets of the city.

. ^* What tbinp; shall I liken to thee, O daughter of Jerusalem f what shall I equal to thee Î

'^ All that pHBs by clap their hands at thee; they hiss and wag Ibéir head at the daughter of Jerusalem^ saying : Is this the citf that men call the perfection of beauty ; the joy of the whole earth ? '

When seen from the Mount of Olives, on the other side of the ▼alley of Jehoshaphat, Jerusalem presents an inclined plane descendiufc from west to east An embattled wall, fortified with te>wecs and a Gothic castle, encompasses the city all-around; excluding, however, part of Mount Sion, which it formerly ' «nclosed.

In the western quarter, and in the centre of the city, towards CJalvary, the houses stand very close ; but in the eastern part^ along the brook Cedron, you perceive vacant spaces ; among the vest, that which surrounds the mosque erected, on the ruins of the Temple, and the nearly-deserted spot. where once stood the castle of Antonio, and the second palace of Herod.

The houses of Jerusalem are heavy square masses^ very low^ without ckiimneys or windows i they have flat terraces or domea en the top, and look Kke prisons or sepulchres.. The whole would appear to the eye one uninterrupted level, did not the steeples of the churches, flhe minarets of the mosques, the sum- mifs of a few cypresses, and the clumps of nopals, break the WAiformity of the plan« On beholding these stone buildings^ encompassed by a stony country, you are ready to inquire if thej mn not the confused monuments of a cemetery in the midst of a ^ttesctt»

390 . ^ TRA.V1L9 m GREBCB, PALBStlNBy

Eirter the city, but nothing will jeu there find to make amewli for the doli^t» of its exlerior. You lose yourself among narroir nnpaved streets, here going up bill, tliere" down, from the là' equality of the groui^d, and you walk among clouds of dust or loose stones. Canvass stretched from house to house increases the gloom of this labyrinth ; basars, roofed over, and fraught with infection, completely exclude the light from the desolate dty. A few paltry shops expose nothing but wretchedness to view, and even/ these are frequently shut, from apprehension of (he passage of a cadi. Not a creature is to be seen in the streets^ not a creature at the gates, except now and then a peasant glid- ing through the gloom, concealing under his garment» the fruits of his labour, lest he should be robbed of his hard earnings by the rapacious soldier. Aside, in a corner, the Arab bntcber is slaughtering some animal suspended by the legs from « wall in. ruins : from his haggard and ferocious took, and his bloody hands, yon would rather suppose that he had been cutting the tliroat of a fellow creature than killing a lamb. The only noise heard from time io time in thb deicide city is the galloping of the steed of the desert: it is the janissary who brings the head of the Be- douin, or returns from ptiundering the unhappy Felfah.

Amid this extraordinary desolation, you ^must pause a mo- ment to contemplate two circumstances still more extraordinary» Amopg. the ruins of Jerusalem two classes of independent people find in their religion sufficient fortitude to enable them to sur- mount such complicated horrors and wretchedness. Here residie communities 6f Christian monk?, whom nothing can compel to forsake the tomb of Christ, neither plunder, nor personal iU treat- ment, nor menaces of death itself. Night and day* they chant their hymns around the Holy Sepulchre. Stripped in the Inorning by a Turkish governor, they are found at /night at the foot of Calvary, io prayer, on the spot where Christ suffered for the aaltation of mankind. Their brows are serene, their lips wear an Incessant smile. They receive the stranger with joy. Witb«  out power, without soldiers, they protect whole villages against iniquity. Driven by the cudgel and the sabre, women, d^* drtin, fiocks, and herds, seek refuge tu. the cloisters of these recluses. What prevents the armed oppressor from pursuing fain prey, and overthrbwing such feeble ramparts t 'The chanty of


Uie monks : (hej deprive themaelyea of the last resources of life to ransom their suppliants; Turks, Arabs, Greeks, Christian schis* matics, all throw themselves under the protection of a few indigent religious, who are incapable of defending themsekes. Here we cannot forbear acknowledging with Bossuet, *' that hands raised towards heaven disperse more battalions than hands armed with javelins. ' •

While the new Jerusalem thus rises from the desert, re» splendent in brightness, cast jour eyes between the temple and Mount Sion ; behold another petty tribe cut off from the rest of the inhabitants of this city. The particular objects of every species of degradation, these people bow their beads without' murmuring; they endure every kind of insult without demanding justice; they sink beneath repeated blows without sighing; if their head be required, they present it to the scimetar. Oa the death of any member of this proscribed community, hit companion goes at night and inters him by stealth hi the valley of Jehoshaphat, in the shadow of Solomon's temple. Enter the abodes of these people, you will find them, amidst the most ah- ject wretchedness, instructing their children to read a myste* nous book, which they in their turn will teach their offspring to liead. What they did five thousand years ago, these people stiH continue to do. Seventeen times have they witnessed the destruc* tion of Jerusslem, yetnoMng can discourage them, nothing can prevent them from turning their faces towards Sion. To see the Jews scattered over the whole world, according to the word of God, must doubtless excite surprise : but to be struck with 0tipematural astonishment,, you must view them at Jerusalem ; you must behold these rightful masters of Judea living as slaves «nd strangers in their own country ; you must behold them ex- pectin«ç, under all oppressions, a king who is to deliver them. Crushed by the cross that condemns them and is planted , on their heads, skulking near the temple, of which not one stone is left upon another, they continue in their deplorable infatuation* The Persians, the Oreeks, the Romans, are swept from the earth ; and a petty tribe, whose origin preceded that of those gfreat nations, still exists unmixed among the ruins of its native tend. If any thing among nations wears the character of a mi«  raclei that character, in ray opinion, is here legibly impresif d.

392 ^ TRATELS IH GEBECi;y>rAI.E8tlV«|

What can appear more wooderful, eTen to the philosopher, ihaa this spectaele of ancient and modern Jerusalem at the foot of Cal- Tary ? the former, overwhelmed with affliction at the sight of the iepulchre of the risen Jesus ; the latter, exulting before the onlj tomb which will have no deposite to render up at the consummar fion of ages.

I thanked the fathers for theii^ospitality ; 1 wished them most •incerelj a happiness which they indeed never expect to efijoy here below ; and when on the point of ieavini; them, I was oTer^ oome with heart-felt grief. I know no sufferings that eaA be compared with those endured hf these unfortunate reiigions^^ the state in which they live resembles that which prevailed in France during the reign of terror. I was about to return Ip my country, to embrace my relatives, to behold my friends agalBy to enjoy once more the sweets of life : and these fathers, who had rehitions, friends, and country, as well as I, remained exiled ill this land of servitude. All possess not the strength of mind which renders man insensible to privations : I have myself heard expressions of regret, which convinced me of the magnitude of the sacrifice. Did not Christ on this same spot find the cup bit- ter ? and yet he drank it up to the very dregs.

On the 12th of October, I mounted my horse, tnth All Aga, John, Julian, and Michael the drogman. We left the city by the Pilgrims' Gate on the west, and passed through the pacha's camp. Before we descended into the valley of Turpentine, I stopped once more to survey Jerusalem. 1 discerned above the walls the dome of the church of the Holy Sepulchre. Never will it again be saluted by the pilgrim, for it no longer exists» and the tomb of Christ is now exposed to the inclemency of the air. The Ume has been that all Christendom would have eage^- ]y contributed to rebuild the sacred monument: at the present day nobody thinks of such a thing, and the smallest sum expend- ed for this meritorious purpose would appear an absurd supers sUtion. Having contemplated Jerusalem for some time, I par* sued my way among the mountains. It was twenty-nioe miniitea past six when I lost sight of the holy city i 'tis thus that the navi» gator marks the moment when he ceases to diseem a distant re- ^on wbkk he shall never again behold.


^m of the valley of Turpentine we found Abou

.p, the chiefd of the Arabs of Jeremiah, waiting

^ ^^1 at Jeremiah about midnight Aboy Gosh

.aking of a lamb which he had provided

k .lim some money^ which he refused, and only

^ ^ . would send him two cufaoî Damietta rice when

•• ^ lie in Egypt. This I cheerfully promised, and yet I

^ , collected my promise till the moment I was embarking

^ unis. As soon as onr communicatioii with the Levant is re-

.ored,. Abou Gosh shall •certainly receive bis Damietta rice ; he

^akall see, that though the memory of a Frenchman may fail him»

yet he ner«r fails to keep his word. I am in hopes that the little

Bedouins of Jeremiah wiU mount guard over my presenti and,

that they will yet .say, '^ Forward ! march !" '

On the i3th^ at noon» I arrived at JaSi;



Oif my return ta Jaffa, I found iDjself in as awkward prediaa^ vent ; there was not a veflftel of anj kind in the harbonn . 1 wa«  ▼ered between two plans; the Arat of which was to proceed to St.» John d'Acre, and tliere embark, and the second to travel to Egypt by land. I should have giTep a decided preference to the latter* bpt it was impmcticable. Five armed parties were then d^piH ting the possession of the banks of the Nile : Ibrahim Bey, in Upper Egypt; two other independent beys, the pacha of the Porte at Cairo, a body of Albatuan rebels, and Elfi ]ftey,in Lower Egypt. These differeptpartiesjofested the roads; and the Arabs» taking advantage of the confusion, completely intercepted all communication.

Prom Uiis dilemma I was {providentially relieved* The second day after my arrival at Jaffa, as I was preparing to set out for 8t John à' Acre, a saick from Tripoli, in Syria, entered the har* bour. Thb vessel was in ballast, and in quest oj a cargo. The fathers sent for the captain, who agreed to carry me to Aleian* dria for four hundred and eighty piasters, and we had soon con- cluded our bargain. . # ^

It was not without sincere regret that I quitted my venerable fiosts on the 16th of October. One of the fathers gave me let- ters of recommendation for Spain ; as it was my intention, after I had seen Carthage, to conclude my peregrinations with the ruins of the. Alhaiptbra. Thus these religious, who remained expo«  aed to every species of -outrage, were anxious to be serviceable to me beyond the seas, and in Iheir native land.

John and Julian having carried our baggage on board, I em- barked on the 16tb, at eight in the evening. The sea was rough and the wind unfavourable. I continue<l upon deck as long as I could perceive the lights of Jaffa. I felt, I must 0W0| a aertain

téttTf AND BlftBAmf . 995

  1. raotioQ of pleasure in refiectîag that I had now aeeonapliehed

a pilgrimage which I had so long meditated» 1 hoped soon td conclude this holy adventure, the most hazardous part of which I had, in my opitAon, surmoilnted. When I considered that I had traversed, almost alone, the continent and seas of Greece : tba^ I was again alone in a small vessel al^ the remotest corner of the Mediterranean, after visiting the Jordan, the Dead Sea, and Jerusalem, I looked upon my retam through Egypt, Barba- ry, and Spain, as the eaneat matter in the world. \ was, however, mistaken. * • i -

I retired to the captain's cabin* when we had lost sight of the lights of Jaffa, and I had for the last time saluted* the shores of the Holy Land ; but next morning, at day- break, we again disco- vered the coast of Gaza, for the captain had steered to the south. With the dawn a fine lireeze sprung up from the east, the sea became smooth, and we ^meà the ship's head to the west. Thus I was pursuing the very satne tm^ek which Ubaldjund the Dane had followed in their voyage to deliver Rînaldo. My vesséf could scarcely be larger than that of the two knights, and, like them, I was guided by fortune. Hy voyage from Jaffa to Alex- andria lasted but four days, and never had I a more agreeable or a quicker passage. . The sky was constantly serene, the windfairi and the sea brilliant. The sails were not once diifted. The crew of the saick consisted of five hands, including the captain ; they vrere not so merry as my Greeks of the island of Tbo, but appa* ^ reotly better seamen. Fresh provbions, excellent pomegranates^ ' Cyprus wine, coffee of the best quality, suppHed us with abun- dance, and cheered our spirits. The excess of my prosperity ought to'have excited apprehensions ; but had I possessed tfie Ting of Polycrates, I should have taken good care not to throw it into the sea, to become the prey of a ravenous «(hirgeon*

There i» in the saaman's life something adventurous, which ^rins and delights us. This conânual transition from calm to storm, ëiis vapid ehange'of lands and skies, keep the imagination of the navigator awake. He is, in his fortunes, the image of man here below ; always promising himself to remain in port, and always «preading his sââs anew ; seeking enchanted islands, at which he acarcely ever arrives, and of which, if he does touch at them., he soon grows <lreary ; (alkfaig oaly ol rest^ and deSghting only hi


« Next day Lucias Lentulas, who knew nothing of what teé passed» because he was upon his voyage from CypnM, arrÎTed upon the Egyptiao shore, and, as he was coasting aiong. saw the funeral pile, and Philip, whom he did not yet know, stantog fcjr it. Upon which he said to himself, * Who has «nished bis days, and is going to leave his remains upon this shore T adding, after a short pause, with a sigh, * Ah Fompey the Great! perhaps «ion m'ayest be the man,* Lentulus soon after went on shore^ and was taken and slain.

♦* Such was the end of Pompey the Great As for Caesar, iw arrived not long after in Egypt, which he feund in great dlM»rdeis When they came, to present the head, he turned from it, and the person that brought it, as a sight of horror. He received the seai^ but it was with tears. The device wbs a fion holding a aword. The two assassins, Achillas and Photinus,' he put to death : and the king, being defeated in battle, perished in the river. Tbeo- doius, the rhetorician, escaped the vengeance of Cœsar, by leav- ing Egypt ; but he wandered about, a miserable fugitive, and was hated wherever he went. At last Marcus Brutus, who kiHed Cs- sar, found the wretch in bis province of Asia, and put bim to deaths after having made him suffer the most exqointe tortures. The ashes of Pompey wei^e carried to Cornelia, who boried them in his lands near Alba.**

On thf 19th, ^t noon, after having been two days witiibntsee^ ing land, we perceived a proniontory, called Cape Brulos, which forms the northernmost point of the Delta. I have already re- marked, on occasion of the Granicus, thé prodigious illudon which names are capable of creating. Cape Brulos exhibited merely the appearance of a small sand-hill, bnt it was the extre» mity of the fourth continent, (he only one that I had still- to explore» it was a corner of Egypt, the cradle of the sciences, the mother bf religions and Ikws; and, therefore, I could not turn my eyet ifom it for a moment

The same evening we descried some palm-trees in the south west, that seemed to rise .out of the sea, for we could not discern the land on which they greyr. To the south appeared a dark confused mass, accompanied with a few detached trees : ft was H^p fm$ of ^ viUage, n melancholy token of the fate of Egypt*

BGT^T, AXB BAftB^t. 399

^ On the 20tti| at five in the morning, I perceived upon the l^en and n^ed surface of thc^ sea, a line of froth, beyond which -the water was pale and placid. The captain came up, and tap- pii^ me on the shoulder, said, in the Frank language, Nilo ! It was moX long before we entered that celebrated river, whose water I tasted, and found it salt Some palm-trees and a minaret in* ,(Kcated. the site of Rosetta, but the land itself was still in? isir ble. Tbb coast resembles the savaunahs of Florida : its ap- ^ pearance is totally different from that of the shores of Greece and Syria, aud strongly reminds you of the effect of a tropiciU hoiwQn.

At ten o*clock we at length discovered, below the .tops of the 90lm*trees, a Une of sand running westward to the promontory €»f Aboukir, which we should have to pass io our way to Alexan- dria. We were then exactly facing the mouth of the Nile, at Ro- setta^ and were going to cross the Bogaz. The water of the river, in this place, was red, inclining to violet, of the colour of a moor in autumn. The rfile» whose inundation was over, had been for some time falling» About twenty gerbs, or vessels, belonging to Alexandria, were lying at anchor in the Bogaz, waiting for a fa- ▼ourable wind to pass the bar, and sail up to Rossetta.

Continuing to steer to the west^ we reachecif the extremity p£ the month of this immense sluice. ^ The boundaiy line of the waters of the river and that of the sea were not blended, but perfectly separate and distinct ; they foamed when they met, and seemed mutually to serve as a barrier to each other.

At five in the evening the aspect of the coast, which we still liad,on our left, was considerably changed. The palm-trees ran in right lines along the shore, like the avenues that often adorn the country seats of our gentry : thus Nature delights to r^new the ideas of civilization in the land where that civilization origi- nated, ai|d where ignorance and misery liave now erected their throne.. Having doubled Cape Aboukir, the wind lull^ by de- grees, so th|it we could not reach the port of Alexandria before night It was eleven o'clock when we came to an anchor in the commercial harbour, in thé midst of the vessels lying before the city. I woukl not go on shore, but waited for daylight on (he deck of our saick^


fol if ure are fettered upon enrth. I found nothing wortiKy of (iiese superb plains but the memorials of the glory 6f my nathe land. I beheld the remains of the monuments* of a new cirifi- zation brought by the genius of Prance to the bankai>f the liile; I considered at the same time that the laoces of our cbevalierit and the bayonets of our soldiers, had twice reflected the rays of 60 brilliant a sun : with this difference, that the manes of dur chevaliers, who fell on the unfortunate day of Massoura, were avenged by our soldiers at the battle of the Pyramids: For the rest, though I was delighted with the appearance of a wide river and verdant plains, I was not much surprised ; for it was an abso* lute picture of my rivers of Louisiana, and my American aava»» nas. *Fam would I also have beheld the forests where I eherisb» ed the first illusions of my life.

M. Saint Marcel, the French conft&l at Rosettai received us with great politeness ; and M. Gaflfe, a French merchant^ and one of the kindest of men, resolved to accompany us to Cairo. We made a bargain with the master of a large vessel,^. hired his best cabin, and, for the greater safety, admitted an Albanian chief into our society. M. de Çhoiseul bas accurately described Chese soldiers of Alexandria :

'^ These fierce Albanians," says he, ^' would still be heroes, if they bad a Scanderbeg at their head: but they are now mere banditti, whose very look indicates ferocity. They are tall, ac- tive, and muscular. Hieir dress consists of very wide browsers ; a short petticoat; a waistcoat covered with plates, chains, and several rows of large balls of silver. They wear buskins, fastened with thongs of leather, which sometimes come up to the knees, to keep on the calves of the legs, plates which assume their form, and preserve them from rubbing against the horse. Their cloaks, bordered and laced with different colours, render their dress still more picturesque. They have no other covering for the bead than a red cap^ and tins they throw off when they are going to battie.f

The two days which we passed at Rosetta were spent in sur- veying that pretty Arabian town, its gardens, and its wood of

  • SeTemt buHdb^p, erected by eommsBd of the emperor» are still to be seen

in Egypt

t Tbc dre» û£ the Albmians it «Ute, trimmed with red lAee« 


palm-trees. SavBrj bas somewhat exaggerated the charms of this place; bat be has not deviated so far from the tnith as has been asserted^ Tbe pathos of his dé8crî|iUon8 has proved detri- .nipntal to his aut)ionty as a traveller ;' but it is no more than jos- lîéa to assert, that his style is more deficient in troth than his narrative.

pa tbe 26tb, af noon^» we went on board our vessel, whicb carried a considerable namber of Turkish and Arab passengers* We set sail^ and began to ascend the Nile. On our left, a ver- dant marsh extended as for as the eje could reach ; on our right tbe river was lined with a cultivated border, beyond which were seen the sands of the desert Palm-trees, thinly scattered here aiid there, indicated the sites of villages, like the trees planted about the cottages, in the plains of Flanders. The houses of these villages «re biûlt of earth, and raised on artificial mounts : â useless precaution! siiice there is veiy often not a creature in. these houses to be saved from the inundations of the Nile. Part of the Delta is a waste ; thousands of Fellahs have been \ alaughtered by the Albanians, and the rest have removed to Up- per Egypt.

Impeded by contrary vriods, and the rapidity of the current, we were seren tedious days in our progress from^Jlosetta to Cairo* Sometimes our sailors towed us along with a rope ; at others we advanced by the aid of a northerly breeze, which blew but for a moment. We frequently stopped to take Albanians on board : as early as the, second day of our Yoyage we had four of these people,^ who topk possession of our cabin; we were obliged to put up with their brutality and insolence. At the least noise^ they ran up on the deck, seized fiieir muskets, and like madmen seemed ready to make war on absent enemies. I have seen them take aim at children who ran along the bank of the river asking charity : the liUle unfortunates rap and hid themselves be- hind the ruins of their hotsj as if accustomed to tiiese horrid di* versions. During this time, our Turkish qierchants went on shore, squatted quietly on their heels, turned their faces towards Mecca, and cut a kind of religions caper in the middle of the fields. Our Albanuins, half Mussulmen and half Christians, ejaculated : " Mahomet !^ and ** Virgin Mary!" took their beads frpm their pockets, repeated obscene words in French, swallowed


large pitchers of wine, fired their muslcets ^n the air, ftikl iiiMitted both ChristiaoB aod 'Mahometans.

Is it then possible 4hat the laws can make such a distiaetion among men? Can those hordes of Albanian banditti, those stupid Mossulmen, those Fellahs so cruelly oppressed, inhabit the same pieces where once lired a people so industrious, so peaceabte, so wise — a people of whose manners and customs Herodotus and Diodorus in particular have left us such a pleasing description. Is there in any poen> a finer picture than the following I

    • In the early ages the kings of Egypt did not conduct

themselTes Hke those of other nations, where they do whate? er they please, without being obliged to follow any rule^ or to lake any advice ; every thing was prescribed them by the laws, not only in regard to the government of the kingdom, but also In relation to their private conduct. They could not have purchaa- ed shives, or even such as were born in fjieir residences, to wait upon them ; but the sons of the prinelpat priests, always above the age of twenty years, and the best educated persons in the whole nation, were given them for this purpose; that tàe monarch, seeing himself night and day surrounded by the most distinguished of the Egyptian youth, might do nethiog . mean or unbecoming his rank. : In fact, if princes so easily plunge into all sorts of vice, it is because they find ministère ever ready to be the* tools of their passions. * There were, in particolar; certain hours of (he day and . night when the king eonid not dispose of his time as he pleased, but was obliged to perform duties specified by the laws. At daybreak he was re- quired to read the letters addressed to him by his subjects^ that, being ac<|uainted from his own knowledge with the wants of his kingdom» he might supply them all, and correct all abuses. — Having bathed, he put on a splendid robe, and other insignia of royalty, to go and sacri^ce to the gods. When (he victims had been led to the altar, the high priest, standing, and In the pré- sence of all the people, prayed aloud to the gods to preserve the king, and to bestow on him all so/ts of prosperity, because he governed bis soiijects with justice. He then enumerated in hb prayer all the virtues befitting a sovereign, continuing in these words : ' Because he is master of himself, magnanimous, benefi* cent, kind to others, an eoemy to* falsehood, hiapu^islunents are

«KYFT, iklTD BAftBARY. .. AM

not equal to bis crimes, and his rewards surpass the eerfiees for which they are eooferred.' Having said several things of this kiad. he eondemned the errors into which the king had fallen through ignorance. It is true, he exculpated the monarch himself^ but he loaded with execrations the flattererS| and all those who fentd given him bad counsel. The high priest adopted this method» iMsause advice mingled with praise is often more efficacious than ièvere reproof, for inspiring sovereigns with the fear of the godi and the love of virtue. After this, the king having sacrificed and consulted the entrails of the victim, the reader of the sacred books read to him some remarkable actions or words of great men ; ia '. ^rder'that the head of the commonwealth, having his mind irabaed With excellent principles, might put them in practice on saeh oo^ oasions as should present tfaemselvfs."

It is greatly to be regretted that the illiistrious archbishop ofCambray, instead of deKneatin; an imaginary Egypt, had not borrowed this picture, working it up with such colours as his ex- quisite genius would have suggested. Fàydit is right on this single point, if it be possible for that man to be right who is to* tally destitute of decorum, honesty, and taste. But still, Fene- lon should have retained, at any rate, the ground-work of th» adventures of bis own invention, and related them in the most ancient style ; the episode of Thermonris alone is equivalent in value to a long poem.

  • '* I advanced into a gloomy forest, where I all at once per-

eeived an old man holding a book in his hand This old man had a large forehead, bald, and somelvhat wrinkled ; a white , beard descended to. his waist; his person was tall and majesticy and Ids complexion still fresh and ruddy. His eyes were lively aod piercing, his voice mildy his wtirds simple and amiable. Kever did I behold such a venerable old man ; his name was Thermosiris.**

We passed through the canal of Menouf, which prevented me from seeing the fine wood of palm-trees on the great western branch ; but the Arabs thm Infested the west bank of that branch which borders on the Lybian desett On leaving the canal of Menouf, and continuing to ascend the river, we perceived on «^ur left the ridge of Mount Mokattam, and, on our right the hi^ sandy downs of Lybia» In the intermediate space between tbesn , 3H


two chains of mountains, we soon descried the tops of the Pynk mids, from which we were yet upwards of ten leagues distant During the remainder of our voyage, which fO"k u? near eight hours, I remained upon^deck to contemplate , these tombs; which teemed to increase in magnitude and height as we approached. The Nile, which then resembled a tittle tea ; the mixture of the aands of the desert, and the freshest verdure; the palmtreea, the sycamores, the domes, the mosques, and the minarets of Cairo; the (Estant Pyramids of Sakkarah, from which the river seem^ to issue as from its immense reservohrs, aHogether foraied a scene to which the world cannot produce a parallel. «^ But, hi spite of all the efforts of men,'* says Bossuet, their insiginfir cance is invariably apparent; these Pyramid» were tombs! Nay, more ; the kings by whom they were erected bad not the satisfiio- lion of being interred in them, and, consequentlj, did not «ijoy flieir sepulchre.*'

I confess, however, that at the first sight of the Pyramids, the only sentiment I felt was admiration. Philosophy, I know, ûnn sigh or smile at the reflection that the most «topendous monument ever erected by the hand of man is a tomb ; bnt why should we behold in the Pyramid of Cheops nothing but a heap of stones and a skeleton ? It was not from a sense of bis nothing- ness that man reared such a sepulchre, bat from the instinct of his immortality. This sepulchre is not the boundary that marks the termination of the career of a day, but the entrance of a life without end ; 'tis an everlasting gate erected on the confines of eternity. •* All these people»" (of Egypt,) says Diodorus Siculus, '^ considering the doration of life as a veiy short period, and of little importance, are, on the other hand, extremely solicitous about that long memory which virtue leaves t>ehmd it For this reason they give to the habitations of the living the name of inns, where they sojourn only for. a short time, but that of eternal abodes to the tombs of the dead, which they are never more to quit. Accordingly, the kings have manifested a certain indiffer- ence in regard to the constrisfotion of their palaces, and bestowed all their attention on tha^of their tombs."

It is insisted, at the present day, that all monuments had a physical utility, and it is not considered that there is a moral utiii* ty for nations of a much higher order, which was studied by the


iegislators of antiquity. Is, then, nothing to be learned from the sight of a tomb ? If any lesson is taught by it, «rhy should we eorapti^în that a king resolved to render that lesson perpetual ? Majestic monuments constitute an essential pikrt of the glory of «▼ery human society. Unless we maintaiirtbat it is^ matter of indifference whether a nation leaves tiehind it a name or no name in history, we- cannot condemn those structures which extend the memory of a peqple beyond its own existence, and make it con* temporary with the future generations that fix their residence in Its foraaken fields. Of what consequence is it then whether these «difices were amphitheatres or sepulchres 7 Erery thing is a tomb, with agnation that no longer exists. When man is gone, the . aionuments of his life are still more vain than those of his death : Ms mausoleum is at least serviceable to his ashes ; but do his palace» retain any particle of bis. pleasures?

Moat certainly, if we would be strict, a little grave is sufficient lor all, and six feet of ground, as Matthew Mole observes, will always do justice to the. greatest man in the world. God may be adored under a tree, as beneath the dome of St Peter's ; and a nan may live in a cottage as well as in the Louvre. The error of this mode of reasoning consists in transferring one order of things into another. Besides, a nation is not^more happy when it lives in ignorance of the arts, than when it leaves behind striking evidences of its- genius. People have ceased to believe in the existence of those communities of shepherds who pass their days IB innocence, and beguile the delicious hours with ramblii^ in the f ecesaes of forests. Full well we know that tiiese honest pastors make war upon each other, that th^ may feast upon the sheep •f their neighbours. Their bowers are neither shaded with vines, nor embalmed with the perfume of flowers ; you arcf suffocated in their habitations with the smoke, and stifled with the stench of milk. In poetry, and in philosophy, a petty half-barbarous tribe may enjoy every earthly blessing ; "but merciless history subjects them to the «ame calamities as the rest of mankind. Are they who so loudly exclaim against glory — are they, I would ask, to- tally regardless of renown ? For my part^ so far from considering the monarch who erected the great Pyramid as a madman, I look upODt him to have been a sovereign of a magnanimous dis- position. The idea of vanquishing time by a tomb, of surviving

Ml TlUVftLfl m «RKSCBy FAf.K6T|AB» .

generattons, maimers, lawB, and ages, by a coffin, could not hft?«  spraog from a vulf^ar mind* If this be pride, it is at least a grand pride. Such a vanltj as that which produced the <>:reat Pyramid, that has withstood the ravages of three or four thousand years, must certainiy, io tho end, be accounted as something.

For the rest, these Pyramids reminded me of less pompous monuments, though they were likewise sepulchres : I mean those edifices of turf, which cover the remains of ^he Indians on the banks of the Ohio. When f visited these, 1 was in a veiy differ^ ent state of mind from that in which I contemplated the nsaaso- lenms of the Pharaohs : I was then begiuoing my journey, and BOW I am finishing it. The world, at these two periods of my life, wore to me precisely the appearance of the two deserts in which 1 have seen these two species of tombs ; a smiling wilder* ness, and barren sands.

We landed at Bouiak, where we hired horses and asses to carry Qs to Cairo. This city, commanded by the ancient raslle of Babylon and Uount Mokattam, forms a very picturesque view, from the great number of palm-trees, sycamores, and minarets^ which rise from the midst of it. We entered it by a ruined suburb, and lay-stalls, where vultures were devouring their prey. We alighted in the quarter of the Franks, a street without any thoroughfare, the entrance of which is shut up eveiy night, Uke the exterior cloisters of a convent We were received by Mon- sieur ■ ' ■■ ,* whom M. Drovetti had entrusted with the English agency at Cairo. He took us under his protection, and sent to . acquaint the pacha with our arrival ; he at the same time caused the five French mamelukes to be apprised of the circumstance, that they might attend us in our excursions.

These mamelukes were in the service of the pacha. La^Se armies always leave behind them some stragglers ; ours lost» in this manner, two or tliree hundred men, who remained dispersed in Ë^i^ypt They followed the fortunes of different beys, and soon became renowned for their valour. It wa^ universally ad- mitted, that if these deserters, instead of espousing opposite inte-

  • By the grenUst of accidenti the name of mj host is effaced in xny joarnal,

and I fear that my memory hat not retained it eorreetly, for which leaaon I cannot venture to iasert it 1 should not fori^ve myself for s<ieh s niaohanoe if my memory were a* treaeheroiis in regard to the serricei^ attODtisiia, mai civilittea of my host, as it has proved in respect to his name.


lestej had âiiitedy and appointed a French bey, thej mig^bt hare, made themselves masters of the whole countrj. Unfortunately, they wanted a leader^ and almost all perished in (he ppy of th» masters whom they bi^d chosen. When 1 was at Cairo, Moha- med Ali Pacha was still deploring the death of one of these bravé fellows. This soldier, who was at first a drum-boy iu one df our regiments, bad fallen by the chance of war into the bands of the Turks ; before be had arrived at manhood he enlisted him- self among the troops of the pacha. Mohamed, to whom he was a étranger, seeing him charge a whole host of enemies, cried out :

    • Wiio is that man ? he must be a Freu«:bman" — and a French-

man he actually proved to be. From that moment he became a favaurite with his master, and nothing was talked of but hi» intrepidity. He was kilted shortly before my arrival in Egjpt, in an actipn in which the other five mamelukes lost their horses.

These men were natives of Gascony^ Languedoc, and PIcardy : their chief acknowledged that he was the son of a shoemaker of Toulouse. The next in authority to him acted as.interpreter for bis comrades. He spoke Turkish and Arabic very fluently, and always said in French fêlions, faUionty je fashions. A third, a tall young man, very slender and pale, had lived a long time in the4lesert with the Bedouinsi and exceedingly regretted that way of life. He told me that when he found himself alQue In the midst of sands, upon a camel, he was seized with such transports of joy that he was unable to restrain them. The pacha esteem- ed these men' so highly, that he preferred them to the rest of his spabis : they alone equalled, and even surpassed the intrepidity of those formidable horse destroyed by the emperor at the battle , of the Pyramids. We live in an age of wonders ; every French- man now seems to be summoned to perform an extraordinary part : five soldiers out of the lowest ranks of our army were, in . 1 806, all but masters of Cairo. Nothing could be a more amusing and singular spectacle than to see Abdallah of Toulouse take the strings of his caftan, lay them about the faces of the Arabs and AlbaniaoB who annoyed him, and thus clefir a wide passage for us through the most populous streets. For the rest^ these kings, hj e^le, had, after the example of Alexander, adopted the manners of the conquered : they wore lonv vests of silk, fine white turbans^ and superb arms ; they kept a harem, slaves> and horses of the


highest blood : things which their fathers in Gascony and Picar^ knew notiiing at all about. But among the mats, the carpets, the divana which I saw in their house, I reàiarked a relic of their native land; it w^s a uniform which exhibited sabre cuts in different places, and covered 11)« foot of a bed made up in the French fashionw Abdallah perhaps reserved these hoDOurable tatters for the conclusion of the dreami, like the shepherd raised to the station of prime minister i

Le eoTrc étant ouvert, on y vit des lambeaux.

L'habit d*un ^ardeur de troupeaux,- Fetlt cUmpeau, jupon, panetière» hoolettc,

Kt, je pense, aa&s'i aa musette.

November fi rat, the day after our arrival at Cairo, we went up fothe castle to examine Joseph's Well, the mosque, Sec. ,The pacha's son (hen resided m this castle. We paid oar respects to bis excellency, who miglit be about fourteen or fifteen years old. We found him seated on a carpet in a ruinous apartment, sur* rounded by a dozen flatterers, eager to gratify all his caprices. Never did I behold a more disgusting spectacle. The father of this boy was scarcely master of Cairo, and possessed neither Up- per nor Lower Egypt It was in this state of things that twelve miserable savages fed with the* vilest ndulation a young barhariaii shut up for safety in a dungeon. Such was the master to whoia Uie Egyptians looked forward after so many calamities !

While they were thus engaged, in one corner of the castle, in corrupting the mind of a boy who was destined to govern men ; in another part they were busily coining money of the basest afloy : and that the inhabitants of Cairo might receive without a murmur both the adulterated coin and the depraved chief that were preparing for them, the guns were pointed against the city.

I was much better pleased to expatiate abroad with my eye, and to admire from the top of the castle the immense picture presented in the distance by the Nile, the cultivated district, the desert, and the Pyramids. Though four leagues from the latter, we seemed to be quite close to tliem. I could perfectly distin- guish with my naked eye the courses of stones, and the head of i the S[)hynx rising above the sand ; with a telescope I couated the steps at the angles of the great Pyramid, and discerned the ^

  • • ^ EeTFT, AND BABBART. 411

eyêB, moutb, and cars of the Sphyox : «o prodigious are these «lasses.

Iq the plains which extend from the other side of the Nile to the desert where the Pyramids rear their lofty heads, once stood, the city of Memphis.

" These happy plains," says Diodoriis, " reported to be the abode of the just after death, are, in fact, no other than the beau- tlfal codntry in the vicinity of the lake Acherusia, near Memphis, composed bf fields and ponds covered with corn or the lotoe. It is not without foundation that the dead have been said to re- side here, for here terminate the funeral ceremonies of most of the £gyptians, when their bodies, having been conveyed across the Nile and the lake Acherusia, are finally deposited in tombs constructed under the surface of these plains. The ceremonies' yet. practised in Egypt correspond with allthe notions of the Greeks respecting the infernal regions^ as to the boat in which the body Is transported ; the piece of mopey that must be given to the ferryman, named, in the Egyptian language, Charon ; the , temple of the gloomy Hecate, situate at the entrance of hell ; the gates of the Cocy tus and Lethe, turning on brazen hinges; and other gates, which are those of Virtue and of Justice, whof is with- out a head.

On the second we went to Djiaie, and the island of Roda. We examined the Nilometer in the midst of the ruins of the house of Mourad Bey. We had thus advanced a good deal nearer to the Pyrami4s. At this distance they seemed to be of immense height : towering above the verdant rice-fields, flie current of the river, the tops of the palms and sycamores, they appeared, in this point of view, like colossal structures erected in a magnifi- cent garden. The beams of the sun, of admirable softness» colooned the sterile chain of Mokattam, the sands of Lybia, the borison of Sakkarab, and the plain of the tombs. A brisk wind ^rove the light white clouds towards Nubia> and ruffled the ex«  panded surface of the Nile. I thought £g>'pt the finest country ia the world ; I love the very deserts which border it, ahd which open to the imaginiMion the field of immensity.

On our return from this excursion, we saw the deserted aoaque which I haye mentioned in treating of that of Jcrusst-


lem, and which appeared to me to be the model of the cathednd of Cordova.

I spent five days more at Cairo, in the hope of visiting the «epulchres of the Pharaohs ; but this was impossible. Most mh luckily, the waters of the Nile had not yet sufficiently subsided, to allow of my going on horseback to the Pyramids, and were not high enough to admit of approaching them in a boat. We sent out people to sound the fords, and explore the couotiy ; but all, the Arabs agreed in reporting that il would' be necessary to wait at least three weeks or a month before the journey could be undertaken. Such a delay might have kept me all Ifae winter fia Egypt, for the westerly winds were just beginning to blow; and this would not have agreed either with my object or my finances. I had already lingered too long on ray journey, and by resolvlag upon this excursion to Cairo, I ran the risk of never more re- visiting France. I was therefore obliged to yield to my fate^ to return to Alexandria, and to be content with having beheld the Pyramids with my eyes, as I could not touch them with nif hands ! requested M. Caffe, on the first opportunity, to inscribe my name, according lo custom, on these prodigious tombs: for i like to fulâl all the little duties of a pious traveler. Are we not gratified when we read, on the relics of Memoon's statue, the names of the Romans who heard it sigh when gilded by the first beams of the rising snn? These Romans were strangers, like ourselves, in the land of Egypt, and like them we shall also pass away.

For the rest, I could easily have reconciled myself to a reu* éence at Cairo ; it is the only place that I have seen which at all comes up to the idea we usually form of an oriental city. Ac* ctfrdirtgly, it figures in the Arabian Nights. It still retains many traces of the visit of the French : the women show themselves with less reserve than fcirmerly ; you are at perfect litierty to ^o in and out whenever and wherereryou please ; andtbe European dress, instead of being an objectof insultais a daim to protectieo. Tliere is a very pleasant garden having circular alleys planted with palm-trees, which serves lor a public walk ; this was the work of our soldiers.

Before 1 left Cairo, I made AbdalUh a present of a dooMe- barrelled guo, of Le Page's manufacture, which he pj^omised to

Earn, ano bakbabt. 413

make nst of on the first opportuaity. I bade adien to my host and mj amiable fellow travellers, and proceeded to Boulak, where I embarked with M. Cafife for Rosetta. We were the onlf ptosengers in the vessel^ and we got under weigh at seven in the evening of the 8(h of November.

We fell down the river by the branch of Menouf. On the morning of the 1 0th, jaat as we had cleared that channel, and were again entering the great branch of Rosetta, we perceived the west bank of jthe river occupied by a camp of Arabs. In spite of all our efforts the current drove us to that side, and oblig- «ed us to keep near the 8hor& A sentinel, concealed behind aa old wall, called to the master to land. The latter replied that he was in a hurry to reach the place of his destination, and that^ besides, he was not an enemy. During this dialc^ne we had approached within pistol shot of the shore, and the current ran in this directioip for the space of a mile. The sentinel, seeing ihat we pursued our course, fired upon us : this first ball nar- rowly missed the man at the helm, who returned it with his car- bine. The whole camp, taking the alarm, hastened to the wa- ter^a ed^e, and we were exposed to the fire of the whole line. We proceeded very slowly, for the wind was contrary, and, to crown our ill luck, we grounded for a moment. We were mi- armed : I had given my piece, as I have related, to Abdhllah. I would have persuaded M. Caffè, whose kindness to me had brought him into this disagreeable adventure, to go below; but though the iktherof a family, andadvaaeed in years, he insisted on remaining upon deck. I remarked the extraordinary a^ity of an Arab, who fired, charged his piece as he ran, fired again, and that .without suffering the vessel to gain upon him a single step. The current at length carried us towards the opposite bank ; but, in so doing, it threw us into a camp of Albanian rebels, from whom we were in much greater danger than from the Arab», for they were provided with cannon, and a single ball might have sunk us. We perceived a bustle on shore ; but, luckily, night came on. We kindled no fire, and maintained profound silence. Providence conducted us, without farther accident, amid (hese hostile parties, to Rosetta, where we arrived on the 1 1th, at ten in the morning.



I theM spent two days with M. Caffe and M. de Saint War* «9I, and set out on the Idtb for Alexandria. On quitting Egypt, I Baluted it in these beautiful lines of M. Esmenard, in his poem entitled, La NavigoHon.

M^re antique det arts et dei fables diTioet,

Toi, dont la gloire aasiae an mitieii des minet»

Etonne le génie et confond notre orgueil»

Egypte vénérable, o&, du fond cercueil,

Ta grandeur eolosMie insolie h nos obimèret ;

C^etttOB peuple qui sut, à oetbarquea légères

Dont riisD oe dirigeoitle eourt audaoieuz« 

Chercher des guides sûrs dans la voûte dea cieox»

Quand le fleuve sacré qui féconde tes rives

T^apportoit en tribut ses ondes fugitives.

Et sur Temail des prés égarant les poissons.

Do limon de tes flou noiirissoit tea moissons,

lies bameaoz dispei*sés sur les hauteurs fertile^

D*un nouvel Océan sembloit former les lies ;

Les palmiers ranimés par la fraîcheur des eaux» Sur Tonde salutaire abaisaoient leurs rameaux ; Ptt: les. feux do Cancer Syène pourwivie,

Dan ses sables brûlans^ntoit filtrer la vie ; Et des murs de Péluse aux lieux où fut Memphis^ Mille eanots flottoient sur la terre d'IsiSi lie foible papyrus, par des tissus Ihigileib Formoit les flânes étroits de ees barqueè agiles. Qui des lieux séparés conservant les rapports, Reunîsaoient l'Egypte en parcourant ses bords. Mais lorsque dans les airs la Vierge triomphante Ramenoitversle Nil son onde décroissante» - Quand les troupeaux belans et les épis dorés S'emparoient k leur tour des ehamps désaltérés. Alors d'autres vaisseaux, à Tactive industrie, Ouvroient des aquilons l'orageuse patrie. Alors mille oités que décoroient les arts^ LHmmense pyramide, et eent palais èpars. Du Nil enorgueilli eouronnoient le rivage. Dans les sables d* A mmon le porphyre sauvage^ En eolonne bardî élancé dans les airs. De sa pompe étrangère étonooit les déserts.

Ograndear des mortels! O temps impitoyable ! - Xioa destina sont comblés : dans leur course immoablf. Les siècles ont détruit cet éclat passager Que U superbe Egypteoffrit à l'étranger.

' EGYPT, AND BAEBAltT. , 415

The eame day, the ISth, at seven in the eyèniag, I aniyed at Alexahdrra.

M. DroVetti had hired Bïe ao Aufitrian vessel for Tunis. She earried one hundred and twenty tons, and was commanded by a Ragusan. The mate, named Francis Dinelli, was a young Ve- netian, of oreat skill in his profession. The necessary prepara- tions for the voyage, andtstormy weather, kept us in the harbour for ten days, which interval I employed in looking about me at Alexandria.

We find in Strabo the most satisfactory details respecting ancient Alexandria; thanks to M. de Volney, the modern city is equally well known, that traveller having given a most complet^ and faithful picture of It I refer the reader to the account of that traveller, which, as a descriptive piece, has no^, perhaps, its > superior in our language. As to the monumeots of Alexandria, Pococke,*Norden, Shaw, Thevenot, Paul Lucas, Tott, Niebuhr^ Sonnini, and a hundred others, have examined, enumerated, and measured them. I shall therefore merely introduce here the in- scription on Pompey's pillar. I believe I am the first traveller that has brought it to France.

For the possession of this piece of antiquity, the learned world Is indebted to some English officers, who covered the inscription with plaster, andlhus obtained an impression of the characters which compose it.

Pococke copied some of the letters : several other travellers had perceived it, and I myself made out with my naked eye seve- ral syllables, among the rest this commencement of a word, aiok; which is decisive. The impressions on plaster furnished these fbur lines:


no....EnAPxos AinrnTox.

To this ioscription it will be necessary to prefix the word npos. The first break must be filled up with N£0^; the second with a ; theUird with T; the fourth with AXTOÏS, and the fifth with AAION. It will be perceived that there is nothing arbitrary here cp^eept (he



word ATTOTITON, which, howe^er, is not of much conséquence. With these additions it will read as follows :


    • To the very wise emperor, the protector of Alexandria, Dîo-

cleaian Augustus, PoIIio, prefect of Egypt."

Thus all doubts relative fo Pompey's pillar are cleared up.* But h hist«^ry silent on this subject? I think I recollect readiag, in the life of one <»f the fathers of the Desert, written in Greek: by a Contemporary, that, during an earthquake %vbich happened at Alexandria, all the columns were overthrown except Diocle- alan's.

M. Boissonadc proposes to suppress the word npos in my reading, which is prefixed merely to govern |he accusal» ves, and whose place is not marked on the base of the column. He con- ceives that, in this case, as in a great number of inscriptions record- ed by Chandler, Wheeler, Spon, &c. the word (timwc, honora^ vity is understood. M. Boissonade, who is destined to console ul for the loss, or the old age, of so many illustrious scholars, is evidently right

At Alexandria I enjoyed one of those little gratifications of Tanity which authors are so fond of, and which had before made the so proud at Sparta. A rich Turk, a traveller and astronomer, whose name was All Buy el Abassy, having heard my name .mentioned, declared that he was acquainted with my works. I paid him a visit with the consul. M ! f7ion cher Mata, el ma chert René / exclaimed he, as soon as he saw me. At that moonent Ali Bey seemed worthy of being a descendant of the great Sala- din. I am likewise inclined to believe, that he is the most learned and poKahed Turk in the world, though he is not perfect- ly acquainted with the genders of nouns in French ; ||ut non ego paueis offtndar maeulis.

If I had been enchanted with Egypt, I thought Alexandria, on

the contrary, the most dreary and desolate place in the world.


  • That is to sKy, as far a» relates to thi» inscription; for the eolumn itself Is of

moch faigtier i^ntiquity than this dedioation.


prom the terrace of the codsoPb house I could perceiye nothia^ but a naked sea, breaking against the low and still more naked coast ; harbours almost empty, and the Ljbian deserts stretehing to the south as far as the eye could reach. This desert seemed, as it were, an extension of the yellow and level surface of the deep. You might im^ne that you had before you but one sin- gle sea, one half. of which was agitated and turbulent, and the. other ^alf silent and motionless. Modem Alexandria every^ where Bungling its ruins with the ruins of the ancient citf ; an Arab galloping among them upon an ass: a number of half starved dogs devouring the carcasses of the camels on the beach ; the flags of European consuls waving over their habitations, and displaymg hostile cojours in the midst of tombs — such was^the spectacle here presented to my view.

Sometimes I took a ride witbM. Droretti to the old town, to Necropolis, or to the desert. The plant which yields soda scarcely covered the dry sandj the jackals ied at our approach ; a species of cricket chirped with a shrill and disagreeable voice, painfully reminding you of the villager's cot, in this solitude, where no rural smoke ever calls ^ou to the tent of the Arab. This place has become still more dreary since the English inun- dated the spacious hollow which served Alexandria for a garden. Nothing meets the eye but sand, water, and Pompey^s eternal pillar. • ,

On the platform of his house, M. Drovetti had built an aviary, in the shape of a tent, where he kept quails and partridge of various kinds. We spent whole hours in walking to and fro in Ibis ayiary» and talking of France. The conclusion of all our eonveisations wa8> that we ought to seek, as speedily as possible, for some humble retreat in our natire land, and there bury our long*cherished hopes. One dayv after a long argument on the subject of repose, I turned towards the sea, and pointed to the ship in which I was soon to embark, battered by the winds. Not . but that, after all, the desire of repose is natural to man ; but the object which to us appears the most humble, is not always the most easily attamed, and very often the cottage and the pailace alike elude our wishes. The sky was overcast during my Whole stay at Alexandria,

and the sea gloomy and tempestuous. I went to sleep, and awoke



àmklBt tfae contioval roariog of the billows, which broke almost nt the foot of tbe^coDBul's house. I might have applied to my- self the reflections of Eudorei if an author be allowed to qaote bis OWÛ work:

    • The dkunal murmur of the sea was the first sound that greet-

ed my ear on coming into the world: uoon bow manj shore* hare I since beheld these same billows m*eakingi which I here contemplate ! Who would have supposed, a few years since, that I should hear those waves* which I saw sporting on the fine sanda of Messina, roaring on the coasts of Italy, on the shores of the Batavi, of the Breton», and of Gaul ? Where will be the end of my peregrinations? Happy should I have been had death over- taken me before I set out on my travels through the world, and when I had yet no adventures to relate.^*

During my compulsory stay at Alexandria, I received seve- ral letters from M. Gaffe, my brave companion in the voyage up and down the Nile. I shall give an extract from one, dated Ro- setta, November 14tb, 1806, as it contains a few particulars re{a- five to the affairs of Egypt at that period :

"Mohamed Aga,t the present treasurer of Mohamed Ali«  paeba of Cairo, arrived here about noon : it is .reported that he demands a contribution of five hundred purses upon the new rice. So you see things get worse and woYse.

  • ' The village where th^ mamelukes defeated the Albanians^

^nd which both of them plundered, is called Nekle : the name of that where we were attacked by the Arabs is Saffi.

On the 23d of November, at noon, the wind having become favourable* 1 ^ent on board with my French servant I took leave of M. Drovetti on the shore, and we once more promised each other remembrance and friendship. Our ship lay at an- chor in the great harbour of Alexandria, where Christian vessels are now admitted as well as Turkish: a revolution owing to our arms. I found on board a rabbi from Jerusalem, a native of Bar- bary, and two poor Moors of Morocco, perh'aps descendants of the Abencerrages, returning from a pilgnmage to Mecca. They begged their pjissage of me as a charity. I received the children

"• Lc» Martyrt.

f Mohamed Aga, the ehief of the Albaofani, straeh with the Instre of «great name, ha» added thai of the empcf or to hia owb« 

, XâYPt, AKD BAREAftT. 419

of Israel and MiAomei în the name of Jesos Christ. In reality,! could claim no great merit on this account, for 1 took it into mj bead that these poor creatures wontd bring me good luck.

At two o'clock we weighed anchor. A pilot steered ns out of the port. We had but very litfle wind, and that from the south. We continued three days within sigh) of Pompey's pil- lar, Which we perceived at the horizon. At lenj;th^ on the third day, the evening gun of the port of Alexandria seemed to give the signal for our'final departure ; a breeze sprung up from the norths and we made sail to the west. We firtft attempted to cross the great gulf of Lybia, bat the wind, which before was not very favourable, shifted to the northwest on the 2dth of November, and we were obliged to stand out between Crete and the coast «f Africa.

On (he^ 1 st of December, the wind settling in the west, com- pletely obstructed our«fartt)er progress. It got roand by degrees io the southwest, and increased to a tempest, which lasted till our arrival at Tunis. The remainder of our voyage was but a kind of incessant shipwreck, for the long «pace of forty-two dayk On the 3d we took in all the sails, and began to scud before the sea. In this manner we were carried with prodigious violence to the very ooast of Caramania : there, for four whole days I had abundant leisure to survey the dreary and elevated summits of the Cragus, enveloped in clouds. We kept beating about, and endeavouring, on the sli«:htest variation of the wind, to get out to sea. We had, for a moment, some thoughts of going into the harbour of Chateau Rouge ; but thé captain, who was extremely timorous, durst not trust himself in those roads« The night of the eighth was very trying: a sudden squall from the south drove us towards the Island of Rhodes : the sea ran so high as to strain the ship exceedingly. We- descried a small Greek felue* ca half under water, to whicjli we could afford no assistance. She passed within a cable's length of our stern. Th^ crew, consist- ing of four men, were on their knees upon deck : they had hung a lantern to their mast, and their lamentable cries were wafted to us by the winds. Next morning vre saw nothing of this felncCa*

The wind having shifted to the north, we hoisted the foresail, • and endeavoured to keep to th^ southward of Rhodes, We made the island of ,6earpanto. On the 10th the wind again changed to


tte west, aod we lost all hopes- of being able to pursae onr < I wished the captain to relinquish hi& design of crossing the gaif qf Ljbia, and to bear away for the Archipelago, where we might expect to meet with other winds ^ but he was afiaid to venture among the Islands. We had already been seventeen days at sea. I employed myself in writing out and arranging the notes for these travels ; and at night I walked the dec^ with the mate. The nights passed on the bosom of the deep, in a ship battered by the tempest, are not barren for the mind ; exaHed ideas spring from grand objects. The stars, which appear for a moment be- tween the fleeting clouds ; the billows aparkling around you ; Iher hollow sound retarned by the sides of the yessel to the dashing waves, all proclaim that you are out of the power of man, and dependent on the will of the Almighty alone. The uncertainty of your future prospeets reduces objects to their true value ; and the world, contemplated amidst a tempestuous sea, resembles life considered by a man on the brink of eternity.

After twenty times ploughing the same billows, we again fovnd ourselves, on the l£th, off the Island of Scarpanto. This Island, fbrmerly called Carpathos, and, by Homer, Crapathos, gave its name to the Carpathian sea« A few lines of Vlrg^ now constitute stH its celebrity.

Eat in Carpathio Neptaiii gorgite Tatet Cierttleus Proteui, &e.

In the Carpathian bottom makes abode^ The shepherd of the seas, a prophet, and a god ! High o*er the main ia vat*i7 pomp he ridet, Hit azure ear and finny eoufepsera guides; Proteus his name i to his Palleman port ' I see from far the weary god resorU Him not alone we rirer gods adore.

But aged Nereas hearkens to his lore. ^

With sore foresight, and with nnerriug doom. He sees what is, and was, tod isTo eome. This Neptune gave him when he gate to keep His scalj floeks that graze the watery deep.*

I should not go, if I could, to reside in the leland of Protevs, iM>twithslan4iiig the fine verses of the Georgics. I can still figure

  • GeoKg. lY. tnmaUtcd by Drjànu

SCnrPT) AMD BABftAKT. 412^1

to myself the miserable villages of ÂDchinates, Horo, and St Helia, which we descried with ouf glasses io the mountains of the island. I hav^e not, like M enelaus and Aristseas^ lost my kingdom or my bees ; I have niothing to expect Arom the future, and I leave to the son of Neptune secrets which cannot interest me. •

On the ISthy at six in the evening, the wind turning to thesoufii» I persuaded the captain^ with some difficulty, to steer to leeward of the island of Crete. At nine he said, according to custom, Ho. pawra I and retired to bed. M. Dinelli resolved to attempt the channel formed by the islands of Scarpanto and Ooxp. We en- tered it with a violeftt southwest wind. At dawn of day we found ourselves among an archipelago of islets, and surrouniled with breakers. We resolved to put intQ the harbour V>f the island of Stampalia, which was ahead of us.

This dull port had neither ships upon its waters nor boosed upon its shores. We perceived only a village, perched as usual on the summit of a rock. We came to an anchor, and I went onahorewith the captain. While he proceeded to the village,i I explored the interior of the island. I saw nothing but heaths» nils of water running over moss, and the sea breaking against the rocks which girded ihé coast The ancients, nevertheless, gave to this island tl\e appellation of difiv rfÀn^a, the table of the gods, on account of the flowers with which it was enamelled* It 19 better known by the name of Aatypalae, and contained a tenaple consecrated to Achilles. In the wretched hamlet of Stampalia there are, in all probability, very happy people-^^peo- ple who, perhaps, have never been out qf their native isle, and never heard of our revokitions. I asked myself if I should have wlabed fpr their felicity; but I was already an obi mariner, inca- pable, of answering thi» question in the affirmative, and whose dreams are the offspring of the winds and tempests.

Our cretr took on board a supply of water, and the- captain returned with some fowls and a live hog. A Candiot felucca en- tered the harbour ; and no sooner had she come to an anchor by our aide, than the crew set up a dance about the helm. O Gra- cia vama!

The wind still continuing to blow from the south, we got under weigh on the 16th, at nine A. M. We passed to the southward of the island of Naafia, and at sunset descried the coast of Crete.


% *

The following day, (he 1 lib, steering north northwest, we disco- veretl Mount Ida. Its sgmmit, covered with snàwy resembled an immense cupola. We made for the island of Cerigo, and. were «o f<»r(uTiate as to pass it on the J 8th. On the 19th, 1 once more Uehctd the coasts of Greece, and saluted T^enarium. To onr grt-at joy, a gaie sprung op from (he southwest, and in five dajs we arrived in the sea of Malta; We <tescried that island on Chrifttmas eve ; but the next day the wind shifting to west north*

  1. efit, drove us to the south of Lampedosa. For eighteen days

we lay off the east coast of the fcingdoni of Tunis, suspended between life and death. Never while 1 live shall I forget the 28th. We were ÎH sight of PantalaHa ; at noon we were overta- ken by a profouml calm ; a lurid ligh^ illumined the gloomy aud threatening atmosphere. . About sunset, so thick was the dark- ness that envploprd us, as to justify. In my opinion, the beautiful expression of Virgil ; ForUo jwx incubai alra, A tremendous uproar ensued. A hurricane burst upon the vessel, aud whirled her round like a feather on a basin of water. In a moment the ■«a was agitated to such a degree, that its surface exhibited one continued sheet of foam. The ship, which no longer obeyed the helm, was like a black spot upon the whittned ocean ; the violence of the wind seemed to raise her out of the water; she tuitied round in every direction, plunging her head and stem alternately in the waves. The return of light showed us the ext^^t of our danger. We were almost close to the Island of Lampedosa. lo the same hurricane two English ships of war perished at Malta, as was stated in the newspapers of the time. M. Dinelli, ' consider- in«; the loss of the ship )is inevitable, wrote upon a slip of paper : ^'F. A. de Chateaubriand, wrecked on the island of Lampedosa, the 28th of December, 1 806, on his return from the Holy Land.*' This paper I corked up in an empty bottle, with the intention of throwing it into the sea at the last moment.

Providence was pleased to save us. A slight variation of the wind enabled us^ at noon, to clear Lampedosa, and we found ourselves once more in the open sea. The wind «^tting round a^in to the north, we ventured to hoist a sail, and bore away for the Lesser Syrtis. The bottom of this Syrtis keeps gradually rising to the shord, so that, ^y paying attention to the soumtfrtgs as you approach, you may anchor in any depth of water you

.XQTPTy Aim BARBAftT. ^891

likftse. From the BhallowBe&a of the water, fte^sea is calm herit in the violeot^^iods, and Ibis gulf, so dangerous to the barki^ of the ancients, is a sort of port in the open sea for modem vessels» We cast anchor off the island of KerkenI» close to the line of the fishery. I was so heartily tired of this long passage, that I wouhi gladly have landed at Sfax, and thence proceeded to Tu- nis by land; but thb captain durst not put intt> the harbour of Sfax, the entrance of which is really dangerous. We lay at michor eight days in the Lesser Syrtis, and here i passed the first day of the year 1807. Under how many stars, and in what a ¥ariety of situations bad I already witnessed the renewal of the years, which either gUde away so swiftly, or seem so tedious! fiow far were flown those days of infancy, when, with a heait throbbing for Joy, I received the parental benediction and pre* sents ! With what impatience was this first day of the year always expected 1 But now, on board of a Jbreign ship, in the midst of the sea, in sight of a barbarous region, this day fled withouUpiea- sure, without the embraces of relatives, without any of those tei»- der wishes of felicity which a mother forms with such sincerity for her son. . This day, !<prung from the bosom of tempests, sprin* kled nought but Icares, regrets, and gray hairs upon my brow. We nevertheless thought it right to celebrate this day, not to - do honour to an agreefihle host, but out of regard for an old ac- quaintance. We slaughtered the remainder of our poultry, with the exception of a cock, our faithful time-keeper, which had never ceased to watch and crow in the midst of the greatest perils* The rabbis, the Barbaresco, ahd the two Moors, came from the ahip's hold to partake of our banquet. This was my treat We drank success to France : we were not far from the island of tlie Lotophagi, where the companions of Ulyssea forgot their coun» iry ; but I know not any fruit so delicious as to make me forget mine.

We were almost close to the Kerkeni islands, the Cercin» of the ancients. In the time of Strabo, there was a fishery ofi* tbese islands, as at present The Cercin» witnessed two extraordinary reverses of fortune ; they beheld Hannibal and Marius sucres- aively pass them as fugitives. We were very near Africa, (Tarris ^miibalisj where the first of these two great men was obliged to embark» to escape the ingratitude of the Carthaginians. Sfaxis a


' laodern lowo, wbieh» according fo Dr. Bhavr, derives its naine jGrom the word Fakouse, on account of the great quantity of cu* Cttmbjers which grow in its rlelmiy.

On the atb of January» 1807» the tempest haying at length abated, we quitted the Lesser Syrtis^ proceeded northward along the coast of Turns for three days, and on the 10th doubfod Cape S^on, the oljject of all our wishes. On the 12th we canole to an anchor before Goletta, the harbour of Tunis. The btutt was despatched to the shore, and I sent a letter to the French consul, M. DeToise. I was apprehensive of being obliged to perform another quarantine, but M. Devoise obtained permission for me to land on the 18th. It was with sincere joy that I left the ship. I hired horses at' Goletta, made the circuit of the lakey and at five in the evening reached the house of my new host



^ At the house of Monsieur and Madame Devoise I found the most generous hospitality, and the most agreeable society : ihey had the kindness to keep me six weeks in their family, and at length I enjoyed a repose of which 1 had the greatest need. The carnival approached, and ve thought of noOiing but to be merry, in flt)ite of the Moors. The ashes of Dido and the ruins of Car- thage were treated^ with the tones of a French violin. We cared not for Scipio^ nor Hannibal, nor Marius, nor Cato of Utica» whose mouth would have been stopped with some good wine (for he was fond of wioe) had he taken it into his head to come and find fault with our mirth. St. Louis alone would have been respected as a Frenchman; but the good and great king would not have taken it amiss of his subjects to amuse themselves ia the very place where be suffered so much.

Th^ national character cannot be extinguished. Our seamen have a saying, that in founding new colonies, the Spaniards be- gin with building a church, the English a taverUi and the French a fort, and, I would add, a ball room. When I was in America, on the frontiers of the country of the savages, I was informed that in the next day's journey I should meet with a countryman of mine among the Indians. On my arrival among the Cayou- gas, a tribe belonging to the Iroquois nation, my guide conducted me into a forest. In the midst of this forest stood a kind of barn, in which I found about a score of savages of both sexes, bedaub- ed like conjurers, with their bodies half naked, their ears cut into figures, raven's feathers on their heads, and rings passed through their nostrils. A little Frenchman, powdered and frizzed . in the old fashion, in a pea-green coat, a dru^et waistcoat, muslin frill, and ruffles, was scraping away on his kit, and making these Iroquois dance to the tune of Madelon Friquei. M. Violet, for

3L ^ ^


that was his name, followed the profession of âanciiig-iiiastsr among the savagesj by whom he was paid for his lessons in bear ▼er ftkioB and bears' hams. He had been a scallioo in the ëervice of General Rdchambeau, doring the American war ; but remain- ing at Ne w- York aùer the retjim of the French army, he resolved to give the Americans instruction in the fine arts. His views having enlarged with his success, the new Orpheus resolved t«  introduce civilization even among the roving hordes of the new world. In speaking to me of the Indians, he always atyled them, Cea wesmura Scaitages, and Ccs'dmnea Siàuvagea. He bestowed great praise on the agility of his scholars, and, in truth, never did 1 witness such gambofe in my life. M. Violet, holding his fiddle between his chin and his breast, tuned the fatal instrument : he then cried out in Iroquois, To your places ! and the whole troofi fell a capering like a band of demons. Such is the genius of nations !

We danced, too, on the ruins of Carfhage.* Having lived at Tunis exactly as in France, I shall do longer follow the dates of my journal, but treat of subjects in a general manner, and in the order in which they occur to my memory. But, before I pro- ceed to Carthage and its ruins, let me take some notice of the different persons- with whom I became acquainted* in Barbary. Besides the French consul, I frequently saw Af. Lessing, ffie Dutch consul ; his brother-in<law, M. Humberg, a Dutch- officer of engineers^ commanded at Goletla: It was with the latter I visited the ruins of Carthage, and I had infinite reason fo be pleased with his attention and politeness. I also met with Mr. . Lear, the consul of the United States* I had formerly been re- commended, ÎQ America, to General Washington. Mr. Lear then held a situation under that great man, and he had' the kfndness, in memory of my illustrious patron, to provide me a passive in an American schooner, which landed; me fn Spain, aa I shall hereafter rehl^e. Lastly, I saw at Tunis, both at the consul's house and in the city, several young Frenchmen, to whom my name was not absolutely unknown, t must not omit to mention also the remains of the interesting family of M. Adanson.

if the multipiicily of materials pusszles the writer Who would treat, at the present day, of Egypt and Judea, h^ is thrown into the very contrary dilemmi^ in regard to the antiquities of Africa^


by tbe sdarcity of documents. Not that there is any want of Tratels in Barbary ; I know of at least thirty accounts of the kingdoms of Moroccoi Algiers, and Tunis, but all of them .are unsatisfactory. Aqiong the older travels, Orammaye's JJrica - lUuitrata, and Shaw's learned work, deserve particular notice. The Mmions pf the fathers of the Trinity and the fathers of Mercy record miracles of charity; but they do not, neither should they, contain any discussions respecting the Romans and Carthaginians. The memoirs subjoined to Paul Lucas's Travels comprehend nothing but a nanrative of a civil war at Tunis. Shaw might have supplied the deficiency, had he extended bis researches to history ; but, unfortanately, lie considers the subject only in its geographical relations. He scarcely touches, in the slightest manner, upon ancient history : Carthage, for instance, occupies no greater space in his observations th^n Tunb. Among . the more modem travellers. Lady M. W. Montague, the abbé Poiret, and M. Desfontaines, say a few words concerning Car- thage, but without entering into any details. In 1 806, the same year in which I travelled, a work was published at MHan with this title : Ragguaglio di alcutn MonumeiHi di dntitJvUa ed ArH^ raccolU negU uHimi P'iaggi d*an Diteltante. This book, as I be- lieve, relates to Carthage, but I met with the note of it too late to procure it from Italy. It may therefore be asserted that the subject which I am about to treat is new: I will lead the way, and others of superior abilities will doubtless follow.

Before we proceed to Carthage, which is here the ooly intc- ' resting object, let us, in the first place, get nd of Tunis. This city retains its ancient name, with a very slight aKera^on. ' The Greeks and Latins called it Tunes, and Diodorus gires it the epithet of While. Anwov/ because it is built upon a chalky hilK K ^ staods about twelve miles from Carthage, and near the banks of a salt-water lake, which communicates with the sea by means of the channel caHed the Gdletta. litis channel is defended by a fort. Merchant ships come to moorings before this fort, where the7 lie in security behind the mole of the Goletta, on payment of a considerable anchorage duty.

The lake of Tunis served for a port for the fleets of the an- cients; at present, one of our light barks can scarcely sail across h without grounding. Care must be taken to follow tbe principal


cfaanneli whieh m marked bj poles driven into the mad. Abfldl^ da noticea an island in fhi« lake^^which is now appropriated to tfa» purpose of a lasaretto. TrayeUers hare mentioned the flamin- goes which enliven this otherwise dull expanse of water. Whev these beautiful birds fly against the sun, stretching out their necto before and their legs behind, they look like arrows tipped, wiilr rose-coloured feathers,

In going from the banks of the lake to Tunis, yon cross a spot which serves as a promenade for the Franks. The city is walled , and about a league in circumference, including the exterioi SU" burb, denominated Bled-el-Hadrah. The houses are low, the streets narrow, the shops poor, and the mosques mean* -The i»- habitants, who do not appear much abroad, have something wild and ferocious in their looks. Under the gates of the city you find people styled Siddi^ or SainU ; who are blacks of both sesee^ stark naked, devoured by veraoin, wallowing In their own excre^ ments, and insolently eating the bread of chanty. These filtfajr wretches are under the inunediate protection of Mahomet. Eii«  ropean merchants, Turks belonging to Smyrna, degenerate Moora» renegados, and captives, compose the rest of the population.

The country round is pleasant : it exhibits extensive plains sown with com, and bordered by hills, studded with olive and carob trees. A modern aqueduct, producing a good effect, crosses a val«  ley in the rear of the city. At the extremity of this valley is eeali> ed the bey*s country-house, The hills which I have just men- tioned may be perceived from Tunis itselH To the east yon dis* caver th0 mountains of Mamelife — ^mountains ungulariy rent, and of the strangest shapes, at the foot of which are situated the hot springs known to the ancients. To the west ai^d north appear the •ea, the Goletta, and the ruins of Carthage.

The Tunisians are, however, lees crpel, and more civilized, than the people of Algiers. They received among them the Moors of Andalosia, who inhabit the village of Tnb-urbo, sii^ leagues from Tunis, on the Me-jerdah.* The present bey u a man of ablHties,^ and is striving to shake off his dependence on Algiers, to which Tunis has been subject ever since it was con- quered by the Algerines, in 17fl7. This prince speaks Italian, is

^ Ths BsgFsdaof aqtiqtiitj, oq the bsnki of wbîefa 9e|;qhiB killed theiiu»i^ serpent


fBtelfigent In coDTertatioDi and ondersiands Eoropeân polities mach better than most of the Orientals. It is well known tbat Turns was attacked hj St Loais, in 1270, and taken by Charles v., in IBSB* As the death of the former is connected with the Wetory of Carthi^, I shall speak of it in another place. As to Charles V., he defeated the fiunoas Barbarossa, and replaced the king of Tunis on his throne, obliging him, however, to pay tri- bqte to ^pain. On this subject Robertson's work may be consult* éd.* Charles Y. retained the fortress of the Goletta, bnt the Torks retook it in IS74. ^

I shall say nothing eoncerning the Tunis of the ancients, be- eanse we shall presently see what a figure it makes in the Wars between Rome and Carthage.

I was presented at Tunis with a -manuscript which treats of the . present state of the kingdom, its government, commerce, reve* nue, military force, and caravans. I have not availed myself of the information furnished by this manuscript; I am Ignorant of Ito author; but, whoever he may be, it is just that he should re- ceive the honouv due to his performance. I shall give this excel* lent memoir in the Appendii^. Now let us proceed to the hisioiy and ruins of Carthage.

In the year 883, before the Christian era. Dido, forced to flee from l|er native soil, landed on the coast of Africa. Carthage, founded by the consort of Sichsus, owed its origin to one of those tragical adventures that occur among infaot nations, and are in some measure the germ and presage of calamities, (he earlier or later fruits of all human society. Every reader is acquainted with tbeJiappy anachronism of the ^neid. Such is the privilege of genius, that the poetical misfortunes of Dido have become part of the glory of Carthage. When you survey the ruins of this city, the eye seeks the flames of the funeral pile; the ear listens to catch the imprecattons of a deserted woman ; we admire those powerful illusions which can absorb the imtigiûation, in places teeming with the grandest historical recollections. When, in- deed, an expiring queen summons to the walls of Carthage tho deities inimical to Rome, and the gods, the avengers of violated l^ospitality ; when Yenus, deaf to the prayers of love, listens to the voice of hatred.; when she refuses Di4o a descendant by

• Hi8toi7 of €barl«s V., bpok r.

43d tràtbuq m qr%eç;b, paxhstinx,

^oeas, and gives h«r Hannîbal : such an extraordinary story; told in an extraordinary language, cannot poseiMy be passed over io silence. «History then takes her place among the Mnses, and fiction assumes the dignity of truth.

After the death of Dido, the new colony adopted a govern- inent, the laws of which are extolled by Aristotle. Powers nicely balanced between the two chief magistrates, the nobles and the people, were attended with this remarkable circumstance, that they «nbsisted unimpaired for seven centuries, and almost un- shaken by popular commotions and some conspiracies of the great. As civil wars, the sources of public crimes, are neverthe- less the parents of private virtues, the republic gained more than it lost by these storms. If its career was not destined to be so long as that of its rival, at least the liberties of Carthage were not extinguished but with Carthage itsetf.

But, as those nations which are the most free are also the mosit passionate, we find the Carthaginians engaged, previously to their first struggle with Rome, in various disgraceful cpntests. They enslaved the peo|>le of Bœtia, whose virtue was not saved by their courage ; they formed an alliance with Xerxes, and lost a battle against Gelon, the same day that the Lacedsmonians feU at Thermopylaea. Mankind, notwithstanding their ptejudioes, have such a veneration for generous sentiments, that they think nothing of eighty thousand Carthaginians slaughtered on the plains of Sicily, while the whole world still extols the three hundred Spartans who devoted themselves to death, in obedience to the sacred laws of tlietr country. 'Tis the greatness of the cause, and not of the means, that leads to genuine fame } and honour has in all ages constituted the most solid part of glory.

Having been successively ei)gaged with Agtfthocles m Afrfca, and Pyrrhus in Sicily, the Carthaginians came to blows with the Roman republic The cause of the first Punic war was trivial, but this war brought Regulus to the gates of Carthage.

The Romans, unwiliing to interrupt the tide of victory which attended that great man, or to send the consiils, Fulvius and Marcus Emilius, in his stead, ordered him to remain in Africa in quahty of proconsul. He complained of these honours, and wrote to the senate, requesting io be immediately superseded in the cobh mand of the army. An affair of great importance, in the opinion


of HégutQs, required M» presence in Italy. He possessed a field of. seyen acres at Pupiaium : the farmer of this fiekl wa^i dead, and his servant bad absconded with the^ oxen and the im- plements of agrk^ulture ; Regulus represented to the senators, that, if his farni i:emained untilled, it would be impossible for him to find subsistence (or his wife and children. The senate immedi- ately decreed, that the field of their general should be cultivated at the public expense > tbat the treasury should advance the sum necessary to replace tbe thii^s^tbat bad been stolen ; and that the wife and children of Regulus should, during his absence, be sup* ported at the charge of the Roman people. In just admiration of this simplicity, Livy exclaims : *' O how far preferable is virtue tqr riches ! These pass away with their possessors ;>. but the poverty of Regulus is still held in veneration !"

Regulus, proceeding from victory to victory^soob^made himself master oi Tunis. The fall of that town filled the Carthaginian» with consternation} tiiey begged peace of the proconsul. Thi» husbandman of Rome proved that it is much eaeier to guide the plough, after gaining splendid victories, than to direct with a steady hand the brilliant car of prosperity. The truly great man is more particularly fitted to abipe in adversity ; he seems bewii" dered with success, and appears, as it were, a stranger to fortune. Regulus proposed such hard terms to his enemies, that they found themselves under the necessity of continuing the wan

DtM-Ing these negotiations, fate^ conducted across the sea a man who waa destined to change the face of affairs. A Lacedae- monian, named Xanthippus, appeared to defer the fate of €ar«  thage : be gave battle to the Romans under the walls of Tuoi^r destroyed their army, and took Regulus himself prisoner ; after which he again embarked and disappeared, without leaving behind in history any farther traces of his existence."^

Regulus, being conducted to Carthage, underwent the most inhuikian treatment : he was made to expiate the cruel triumph» of his country. Gould they,'who with such arrogance dragged at their chariot vfheels monarchs whom they had precipitated from their thrones. Women, and children in tears— could they hope for indulgence in captivity to a cUiaen of Rome ?

  • Sojne writers aoouse the Oarthaginians of baling caused him to be put t^

death» from jealousy «f hi^ glory ; but there i* no proof of this.-

Fortune again declared in farour of the Romans. Cartliag»^ once more Bued for peace ; she sent ambassadors to Italy, and Regulus accompanied them. His masters exacted from iiim a promise that he would return to his fetters, if the negotiations •hould not terminate according to their wishes ; hoping that he would spare no exertion to bring about a peace» by which he would be restored to bia country.

Reguiusy on bis arrival at the gates of Rome, refused to enter tbe city. There was an ancient law prohibiting any stranger to introduce tbe ambassadors of a hostile nation to the senate-; and Regulus, considering himself as an envoy of .the Oartha^nians» caused thç obsolete custom to be revived on thi% occasion. The senators were, in, consequence, obliged (o assemble withonl the walls of the city. Regulus declared that be came, hy order of his masters, to aolicit of the Iloman people either peace or«B. exchange of prisoners. The ambassadors of Carthage having ex* plained the object of their mission, withdrew. Regnlus wouM baye followed them, but the senators requested him to remain during their deliberations.

Being presselh to give bis opinion, he strongly represented all tbe reasons which Rome bad for continuing tbe war with Carthage. The senators, admiring his magnanimity, were deal» rotts of saving anch a eitisen ; and the ponii^x maxmus main* tained that he might be released from the oaths which he had fa- ken. '^ Follow the advice which I have given you,'* said the illustrious captive, in à tone which astonished the assembly,

    • aod forget Regulus: never will I dwell In Rome, >after having

been the slave of Carthage. I will not draw down upon yon the indignation of the gods; I have promised our enemies to place myself again in their hands, if you reject their proposals; and I w^ill not violate my oath. Jupiter cannot be deluded with vain expiations; the blood of butts and sheep cannot waah away the guilt of perjury, and sacrilege is sooner or later overtaken by certain punishment. • I am not ignorant of the &te which await» me ; but a crime would contaminate my soul, while torments can affect only my body. Besides, there are no evih for him Wlio knows how to endure them^ if they surpass the powers of natiire, death deOvers us from them. Conscript fathers, cease to pity me ; my resolution is taken, and nothing can induce me to


chMge it I shall return to Carthage; I will do my duty, and leave the rest to the gods."

  • To diminish the interest that was taken in his fate, and to

^ «scape the condolence of unavailing compassion, Regulus crown- ed his magnanimity by informing the senators that the Cartha- ginian» had forced him to drink a slow poison before they re- leased him from confinement. ^ Thus/' added he, ** you lose me but for a few moments, which are not worth purchasing at th^ price of perjury." He rose, and withdrew from tlome without uttering another word, keeping his eyes fixed on the ground, and repaising his wife and children, who went to meet hiny : eitlier fearing lest he should be too deeply affected at parting from them,

• or under the idea that, as a slave of the Carthaginians, he was unworthy of the embraces of a 'Roman matron. He ended his days in the most cruel tortures, unless the silence of Polybius and Diodorus be supposed to invalidate the testimony of the Latin historians. Regulus was a memorable example of the influ- ence of the obligation of an oath, and the love of country, on a couregeous soul. If even pride had some share in the resolution of hta undaunted mind, still, by thus punishing himself for hav- ing been vanquished, he proved that he was worthy of the vic- tory. ^

After twenty-four year's figbtinir, a treaty of peace put an end to the first Punic war. The Romans were no longer a nation of hosbaitdmen, governed. by a senate of kings, erecting altars to moderation and mediocrity ; they were men who felt themselves formed tx) command, and whom ambition incessantly impelled to injustice. Under « frivoloud pretence, they invaded Sardinia, and exulted in having made a conquest from the Carthaginians in tiaie of profound peace. They knew not that t^e avenger of violated faith. was already at the gates of Saguntum, and that he would soon appear on the hills of Rome. Here commences the second Funic war.

Hannibal appears to me to have been the greatest general of antiquity : if he does not win more love than any other, he, at least, exeltes higher admiration. He possessed neither the heroism of Alexander, nor the universal genius of Ciesar ; but, as a military man» he surpassed them both. It is, in general, the love of coun- try, or of £lory, that conducts heroes to great achievements, fian-^



DÎbal alone was guided by hatred. Inflamed with this spirit of • new kind, he sets out from the extremities of Spnin, with an army composed of the people of twenty different countries. He passes* the Pyrenees, inarches through Gaul, subdues hostile nations by the way, crosses riTers, and arrives at the foot of the Alps, l^ese trackless mountains, defended by barbarians, in Tain oppose the career of Hannibal. He falls from their icy summits upon Italy, annihilates the first consular army on the banks of Tacinus, strikes a second blow at Trebia, a third at Thrasymene, and with the fourth seems to immolate Rome in the plain of Cannœ. For six- teen years he prosecuted the war, unaided, in the midst of Italy ; and in sixteen years he committed only otie of those errors which decide the fate of empires, and which appear fio foreign to the» nature of a great- man, that tiiey qiay easily be attributed to a design of Providence.

UnappalKed by dangers, inexhaustible in resources, subtle, inge- nious, doquent, nay, even learned, and the author of various works, Hannibal possessed all the distinctions which belong to su- periority of genius and strength of character ; but he was destitute of the fine qualities of the heart Cold, cruel, unfeeling, bom to overthrow and not to found empires, in magnanimity he was fdx, inferior to his rival.

Scipio Africanns is one of the most illustrions names m history. The friend of the gods, the generous protector of distress and beauty, Scipio has some traits of resemblance to our ancient che* ▼aliers. With him commenced that Roman urbanity #hjch adorned the characters of Cicero, Pompey, and Csaar, and which, in those illustrious citizens, superseded aie coarseness of Cato and Fabricius.'

Hannibal and Scipio met in the plains of Zama ; the one cele- brated for his victories, the other renowned for his. virtues: both worthy of representing their great nations, and of disputing the empire of the world.

At the departure of Scipio's fleet, for Africa, the coast of Sicily was lined with an immense concourse of people, and a great number of soldiers. Pour hundred transports, and ùùj triremes, covered the road of Lilybaeum. The galley of Lslius, the ad- mimi of the fleet, was distinguished by three lights; the other ships carried one or two^ according to their aixe» The eyes of the


'workl Tfere fixed 0|i this expedition, planned for the parpose oC obliging HaûDibal to leave Italy, and finally deciding the fate of Rome and Carthage* The fifth and eixth legions» who had been present at the battle of Cannae, burned with impatience to lay waste the country of their conqueror. The general attracted particular attention; his piety to the gods, his exploits in Spain, where he had avenged the death of his father and his uncle, the plan of i^arrying the war into Africa — a plan which he alone bad conceived, and which was disapproved by the great Fabius; lastly^ that favour which mankind are accastomed to grant té bold enter- prises, to glory, beanty, and youth, gained Scipio the good wishes and. the hearts of all.

T!he day of departure at length arrived. With the morning'a

  • dawn Scipio appeared on the stern of Lselius's galley, in sight of

the fleet and the multitudes that covered the eminences on the shore. A herald raised his sceptre, and commanded silence.

'^ O gods and goddesses of the earth, cried Scipio, ^' and ye divinities of the sea, grant a prosperous issue to this enterprise I May my plans turn out to my glory, and to the glory of the Ro- omp people. May we, on some future day, retqrn joyfully to our homes, laden with the spoils of the enemy ; and may Carthage experience the calamities with which she threatened my country!"

With these words a victim was slain : Scipio threw the reeking entrails into the sea ; the sails were hoisted at the sound of the trumpet, and a fair wind wafted the whole fleet from the shores of Sicily,

The day after their departure the Roman0 descried the ccmti- nent of Africa and the promontory of Mercury ; night came on, and the fleet was obliged to cast anchor. At sunrise, Scipio per- reiving the coast, inquired the name of the promontory nearest the TesseL ^ It is Good Cape," replied the pilot. On hearing this name of happy omen, the general, saluting the fortune of Ronaef ordered the prow of his galley to be turned towards the place pointed out by the gods.

The lahding was efi'ected without molestation. Consternation pervaded both the.cities and the country ; the roads were covered with fugitives, men, women, and children, with their flocks : you ivoul4 b&ve taken it for one of those great migrations, when whole


nations, by the wrath or will of the gods, forsake the tombs of their ancestors. Terror seized Carthage : its citizens ran to arm^ the gates were shut, and soldiers stationed on the walls, as if the Romans were already preparing for the assault

Meanwhile Scipio, having sent hisjleet towards Utica, marched himself, by land, to that town, with the intention of besieging it, and was joined by Masinissa, with two thousand cavalry. This king of Nuroidia, at firat the ally of the Carthaginians, had made war against the Romans in Spain ; having, by a series of extraor- dinary evelfts, several times lost and recovered his kingdom, be was again a fugitive when Scipio landed in Africa. SyiUbax, prince of the Getuli, who had married Sophonisba, the-dai^hter of Asdrubal, had recently made himself master of the domimons of Masinissa, who now threw himself into Scipio's arms, and fo his co-operation the Romans partly owed their subsequent successes.

After some engagements, which terminated in bis favour, Sci- pio laid siege to Utica. The Carthaginians, commanded by Ad- drubal and Syphax, formed two separate camps in sight of that of the Romans. Scipio contrived to set fire to these two eamps, the tents of which were formed of mats and reeds, after the Nu- midian manner. Thus perished forty thousand men in one aingle night. The conqueror, who oip this occasion took a prod%ioos quantity of arms, ordered them to be burned in honour of Vulcan.

The Carthaginians were not disheartened : they directed great levies to be raised. Syphax, moved by the tears of Sophoniaba^ continued faithful fo the cause of the vanquished, and agam ex- posed himself for the native country of a woman to whom he was paasion'ately attached. StiU favoured by heaven, Scipio routed the hostile armies, took the towns dependent on them, made himself master of Tunis, and threatened Carthage %vith utter destruction. Impelled by his fatal love, Syphax ventured once more to face the victors, with a courage worthy of a better fate. Deserted by his troops in the field of battle, he rashed alone among the Roman squadrons : he hoped that his mien, 8s(h|imed of having abandoned their king, would return and die with him ; but the cowards continned their flight, and Syphax, whose hor&e was killed by a pike, fell alive into the hands of Masinissa.

To this latter prince it was a subject of great triumph to ir»ake prisoner the man who had deprived him of his crown. Some


time aflerwardB the fortune of war threw Sophonisba, the wife of Sypbax, also into the power of Masinissa. She fell at the feet of the eonqueror, " I am thy . prisoner/' said she : '* so the wHl, of the gods, and fortune, favouring thy courage, have decreed : but, by thy knees» which I embrace, by thy triumphant hand^ which thou permittest me to touch, I supplica^te thee, O Masinissa ! keep me for thy slave, preserve me from the horrors of falling a prey to a barbarian. Alas ! it is biit a moment since, like thyself, I was surrounded with the majesty of kings. Consider that thou canst not renounce thy blood ;^ that thou sharest with Syphax the . name of Numidian. My husband left this palace, pursued by the wrath of the gods: mayestthou have entered it under happier auspices ! As a native of Carthage, as the daughter of Asdrubal, .judge what I have to expect from a Roman. If 1 must not re- main in the fetters of a prince bom on the soil of my country, ^f death alone can deliver me from the yoke of a foreigner, give me that death, and I will number it among thy favours."

Masinissa was affected by the tears and the fate of Sophonisba, who was then in the bloom of youth, and of incomparable beauty. Her supplications, says Livy, were not so much entreaties ^s caresses. ^Overcome by them, Masinissa promised all she destfed, «nd conceiving as strong a passion for her as Syphax, he made bis prisoner his wife.

Syphax, loaded with chains, was presented to Scipio. That great man, who had once seen upon a throne him whom he now beheld at his feet, was filled with compassion. Syphax had for- merly been the ally of the Romans ; he threw the blame of his defection on Sophonisba. ^* The torches of m jt fatal union,*' said he^ *^ have reduced my palace to ashes } but one circumstance eonsoles me : the fury who has destroyed my house is. transferred to the bed of my enemy ; she reserves for Masinissa a fate similar to mine.

Under the appearance of hatred, Syphax thus disguised the jealousy in which these words originated, for he still loved So{iho- nisba. Scipio was not without concern, lest the daughter of Asdrubal should acquire the same empire over Masinissa as she enjoyed over Syphax. The passion of the former already seem- ed unbounded : he lost no time in celebrating his nuptials ; am}, impatient to be united to Sophonisbai he had lighted up the by*

438 TRXTfiLS IN «REEC£f PALfeftTIN£|

meneal torch before the household gods of Syphaz, divinities «e* customed only to hear prayers preferred against the Romans» Hasinissa returned to Scipio, who, after bestowing praise on the king of Numidia, slightly reproached him with his conduct toward» Sophonisba. Masinissa, on mature reflection, fearing lest he should incur the displeasure of the Romans, determined to sacri«  fice his love to his ambition. Retiring to his tent, he groaned and struggled against those generous sentiments, which man cannot root from his heart without violence. He seiH for the officer who had the custody of the king's poison — that poison to which the- African princes resorted to release themselves from the t)urden of life, when overwhelmed by any irremediable ca- lamity : so that the crown, though not secure from the revola* tions of fortune, was at least, with them, beyond the reach of con* tempt. Masinissa mixed the poison in a cup ; then, turning to the officer charged with the melancholy errand: "Tell the queen," said he, *^ that had I been my own master, never would Masinissa have parted from Sophonisba. The gods of the Ro«  mans decree otherwise. I shall keep at least one of my pro- mises to her : she shall not fall alive into the bands of lier ene* mies, if she submits to her fate like a citisen of Carthage, the daughter of Asdrubal, and the wife of Syphax and Masinissa.

The officer repaired to Sophonisba, and acquainted her with the commands of the king. " With joy I accept this nuptial gift,'* replied she, ^ since it is true that a husband could not mak«  bis wife any other present. Tell thy master, that in losing my life, I should at least have preserved my honour, had I not married Masinissa the day^ before my death. With these words she swallowed the poison.

it was at this juncture that the Carthaginians recalled Han- tilba! from Italy. He shed tears of rage ; be accused his fellow citizens : found fault with the ^ods ; and reproached himself for not having marched to Rome after (he battle of Cann». Never did a man, quitting his native land to go into exile, feel such profound grief as Hannibal on leaving a foreign shore to return to his country.

He disembarked on the coast of Africa with the veterans who had accompanied him in Spain, Gaul, and Italy; who could show more fasces taken from pnetors, generals, and consulsj thaiv


wereciurrred before all the magistrates of Rome. Hannibal had been tbirty-siz years absent from his country : he had left it When a boy, and returned when advanced in life, as he lumself observed to Scipio. What must hare beeh the reflections of that great man on revisiting Carthage, whose walls and whose inhabitants were almost strangers to him ! Two of his brothers were dead ; the companions of his childhood had disappeared ; fresh generations had suaceeded each other : the temples, crowd- ed with the spoils of the Romans, were, doubtless, the only places that Hannibal could recognise in this new Carthage. Had not his countrymen been blinded by envy, with what admiration would they have beheld the hero, who for thirty years had beeli shedding his blood for them in a distant region, and covering them with immortal glory ! But, wh«n services are so eminent as to exceed the bounds of compensation, they are repaid with nothing but ingratitude. Hannibal had the misfortune to be greater than the people among whDm he was born, and was doomed to live and to die in a foreign land. •

He led his army to Zama* Scipio pitched his camp near titan- nibars. The Carthaipnian general had a presentiment of the infidelity of fortune ; for he requested an interview with Hie Ro- man chief, io offer proposals of peace. A place was appointed for the interview. When the two captains met, they continued silentfor some time, overpowered with admiration of each other. Hannibal, at length, spoke as follows: *' The gods, O Scipio, decreed that your fiather should be the first of the hostile generals whom I should meet in arms in Italy : those same gods com- mand me to come this day, unarmed, to demand peace of his son^ Yon have seen the Carthaginians encamped at the gates of Rome : the noise of a Roman camp is now heard within the walls of Carthage. I left my comntry a child ; I return to it ma- ture in years : long experience of good and bad fortune has taught me to judge of things by reason, and not by the event. Tour youth and prosperity, which has not yet forsaken yon, will perhaps render you hostile to peace : amid success >ve think not of adversity. Tou are about the same age that I was at Cannes^ and l^rasy mené. Consider what I have been, and learn from my example the inconstancrr of fortune. He v^ho addresses you in the language of supplication is tfiat same Hannibal wlio.


encamped between the Tiber and the Teverone, ready, to a»** «ault Rome herself, deliberated what he should do with year native land. I have carried terror into the fields of your fathers, and am now reduced so low aa to implore you to spare my country a similar calamity. Nothing is more uncertain than the chances of war : a moment may blast ail your glory and your hopes. Agree to peace, and you remain the arbiter of your destiny ; fight, and you resign your fate into the hands of the gods."

To this studied harangue Scipio replied with greater frankness», but less eloquence ; he rejected, As unsatisfactory, the proposals made by Hannibal, and both sides prepared for battle. It is pro-t bable that the interest of his country was not the only motive which induced the Roman general to refuse a compromise with the Carthaginian commander, and that Scipio could not with- Btvad the desire of trying his strength with Hannibal.

The day after this interview, both armies, composed of vete- rans, and headed by the two greatest captains of the two greatest nations in the world, advanced to contend, net for the wails of Rome or Carthage, but for the ejhpire of the world, the stake pf this last struggle.

Scipio placed the hastali in the first rank, the principes in the second, and the triarii in the third, living equal intervals be- tween these lines to form a passage for the Carthaginian ele- phants. Light troops, dispersed in these spaces, were^ as occa- sion required) to fail back upon the heavy armed soldiers, an(\ U> discharge upon the elephants a shower of arrows an^ javelins. Lœlius covered the left wing of the arniy with the Roman caval- ry, and Masloissa commanded the Numidian horse on the rights .

Hannibal drew op eighty elephants in front of his army, the first line of which was composed of Ligurians, Gauls, Baléares, and Mauritanjans ; the Carthaginians constituted the second ;. and the Bruttii, posted in their rear, formed a kind of reserve, on which the general placed very little dependence. Hannibal op: posed his cavalry to the Roman horse, the Carthaginians to Laslius, and the Numidians to Masinissa.

The Romans first gave the signal for the attack. At the same time they set up such shouts, that part of the elephants fell back , affrighted on the left wing of Hanuibars army, and threw the.

EGYPT, AND BARBAtir. . 4^1

Kumidiaii horee into confasion. Masiéissa, availing himself of this cireiiinfitance, rushed upon them, and *put them to flight. The rest of the elephants» w^ich had advai^^red against the Ro- mans, were repulsed bjr the^light troops, and pi^odnced the same accident in the right wing of the Carthaginians as had befall