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THANKS to the governor's guardiano, all was once more safe this morning. We saw little of the bad men of Jenin, from whom we had been led to fear so much; they seemed to keep well behind the cactus hedge. Perhaps the governor had given them a hint.

We moved off at half-past seven, and at once entered the plain of Esdraelon, or valley of Megiddo, so celebrated for many a battle in ancient times and modern, and to be the scene probably, of the last great battle of Armageddon. It is a splendid plain certainly; as flat and smooth as possible, and has a surface very different in character, to what you usually see in Syria. No rocks protrude; no stones strew the ground; a deep, rich, red soil covers it, and shows you a most exquisitely fertile plain, sufficient of itself, if properly cultivated, to afford food for almost all the present population of the country. It appears to be better tilled at present than the other parts of the country generally are, but it is very far from being what it ought.

It is surrounded by mountains on all sides, save on the west. The Carmel range bounds it on the south, and running westward, falls into the sea at Cape Carmel; the mountains of Gilboa are towards the east-a low range, green up to the summits; and on the north, is the range on which Mount Tabor stands. Parallel with the course of the valley, in a direction S.E. and N.W., runs the low ridge of little Hermon,* dividing the plain into two unequal parts, of which the

* One used to think, that the "little hill of Hermon, (Ps. xlii. 8., Prayer-Book version,) meant Mount Hermon at the north of Syria, spoken of ironically; for we know that this is really a very elevated mountain, ten or twelve thousand feet high, and covered with snow for the greater part of the year. But it seems to be generally referred to this range by geographers, though I cannot discover the

reason.

552—Vol. for 1848.)

narrower part is to the north towards Mount Tabor. It does not, however, continue the whole length of the plain, but stops short a few hours to the west of Tabor. What the whole length of the valley is-extending as it does from Bethshean to the seaI hardly can tell; but from Jenin to the mountains of Nazareth, which is its breadth, it took us five hours and a-half to cross.

Taanach, now Tanuk, the scene of Deborah's battle, lies to our left, at the foot of Carmel.

Farther on, we passed Zeritin, the site of the ancient Jezreel. Little is now to be seen but a wretched village, and a few uninteresting ruins. The fountain of Jezreel is still in existence; a few rude stone troughs-the usual accompaniments of a well-and no doubt of very ancient date, are still lying round it in a circle, and a flock of goats were refreshing themselves at them. Once upon a time, long ago, there was a very different scene going on here. Hundreds of tents were strewed about; and a large army was busily employing itself for a coming engagement. The horses tethered to their short, fixed cords, impatiently paced backwards and forwards; the air rung with the sharpening of swords and spears ;-“ The Israelites were pitched by the fountain which is in Jezreel." (1 Sam. xxix. 1.) There stood the tent, in which was the first King of Israel. Sore perplexed was he, for the Philistines were hard upon him, and neither he nor his men had courage to oppose them. Amongst their ranks also, was the man whom he both feared and hated, David, his spirit-charmer. Soon the battle came on, "the Philistines fought against Israel, and the men of Israel fled from before the Philistines, and fell down wounded in Mount Gilboa. And the Philistines followed hard upon Saul and upon his sons; and the battle went sore against them, and the archers hit him, and he was

sore wounded of the archers." I have often speculated on the course that David would have taken, had he not been sent away so summarily by the lords of the Philistines, who evidently were surprised and annoyed at their king trusting him so much. Would he have fought against his own people, and against their leader and his son, for whom he afterwards so mourned? Would he, in the midst of the battle, have turned his party over to them? Or could he have remained neutral, without exciting the suspicions of the Philistines ? He was released most fortunately from his dilemma, by being sent off, without having to form a choice;-may we not trace the hand of God here, rescuing his servant from a most serious difficulty?

And yet he was evidently anxious to stay-"What have I done? and what hast thou found in thy servant so long as I have been with thee unto this day, that I may not go fight against the enemies of my lord the king." What did he intend to have done? This was Saul's last battle; after he fell on his sword, they cut off his head, and took him, and the lifeless corpses of his sons, and hung them up in Bethshedn, which is not many miles to the east of us.

Deborah's battle song we read as we came in view of Mount Tabor, from whence she and Barak led down the men of Zebulon and Napthali. (Judges iv. 14.) Sisera's chariots must have had splendid room for manœuvring in this plain. But I never read of his mother wondering

Why his chariot was so long in coming; why tarried the wheels of his chariot;" without thinking what a different state the country must have been in then. For now, you would be able to get no kind of a machine with wheels for a hundred yards together, anywhere about the country, except on such a plain as this. At present there would be every thing in the world to prevent his coming: projecting rocks, large stones, swamps, and stunted trees. I fear we must conclude that at that early time, this part of the world was in most respects much more civilized than it is at present; more

enlightened it certainly was. And this in the 19th century after the Messiah has appeared! in the very country where he spent his earthly career! Deborah lived twelve centuries and

a-half before he came. I have not seen a single thing with a wheel belonging to it, since I entered Syria; I fancy one does not exist in the country. Every thing is carried on the backs of horses and mules, or on the top of women's heads.*

Just as we rounded little Hermon, Tabor appeared in view. It is like a huge hemisphere, or perhaps, rather resembles a cone with its top shaved off; rising up quite by itself, indepenedently of the mountains about it, to the height of a thousand feet. Its base is three or four hundred feet above the sea. It is covered with grass more than half way up, and its top is speckled with bushes. We crossed, on our way over the plain, many small rivulets, branches of the Kishon, most of them were dry; but bore the appearance of being full to overflowing at times. As we were going along, our dragoman's horse suddenly made a great plunge, which all but sent its rider on the ground. On looking back, we saw our muleteers violently engaged in beating something with their sticks, which proved, on our riding up to see it, to be a large snake. It had not bitten the horse, but it was its mere presence there, coiled up all ready for an attack, which had caused the animal to take alarm. Such instinctive dread has the horse of a serpent. The incident brought to mind that passage in Gen. xlix. 17., "Dan shall be a serpent by the way, an adder in the path, that biteth the horse heels, so that his rider shall fall backward." We observed the plain covered with black and white storks. They are of essential use in destroying all manner of vermin; and the country people say that they kill the snakes. They are never molested by the natives, who hold them in a kind of superstitious reverence; and the birds seem to be aware of their privilege, for they are most remarkably tame. See Ps. civ. 17.

* In former days this plain was particularly famed for chariots. (Josh. xvii. 16.)

Shunem, now called Sulam, and Nain,* now Nein, both lie to our right, the one a little to the north of the other; and Endor, still known by the same name, is a little to the east of Nein, among the mountains. When we began to rise out of the plain, and to ascend the hills towards Nazareth, we found the road exceedingly steep and difficult. Part of it was indeed, completely washed away by a mountain torrent, which helps to fill the Kishon, so that we could barely pass. This goes to shew, that the description of the Kishon in Deborah's song, is not merely poetical: "The river of Kishon swept them away, that ancient river, the river Kishon;" indeed, though usually an insignificant stream, it must at times be sufficiently large to do a considerable amount of damage.

Nearly on the top of these hills, is a delicious gushing fountain of clear water. The heat for the last two or three hours had been so excessive, that we were glad enough to get to this, and to bathe our throbbing heads. It was almost at the same moment, as we were climbing the hills this afternoon, that both my friend and myself were attacked with a most violent pain in our heads; the blood seemed to rush up into them, and almost to burst the veins. With me, indeed, it did so partially, and I was instantaneously relieved from the oppressive feeling; but my friend continued to feel the effects for days after; the headache returning at stated intervals. this fountain are a few huts and a garden; the place is now called Yafa, anciently Japhia. A few men were

At

The

*The situation of Nain is most lovely, on the slopes of little Hermon. It derived its name from its character-the place of beauty, or pleasantness. story of our Lord's raising the widow's son here, is one of the most touching and affecting incidents we meet with anywhere. Perhaps it may not have struck some, with what apparent facility the young man rose up, when Christ spake the word. But the coffins of the ancient Jews-like those you see all over the East now-are mere open boxes, in which the deceased is carried, covered lightly over with a cloth. He is deposited in his grave as he is, without any other covering than his grave clothes. So Lazarus, John xi.

JANUARY 1849.

busily employed in washing skins, in a tank filled by the stream. Soon after we had left this, we once more with pleasure perceived we were approaching a place of Christianity; a number of monks taking their evening walk out of Nazareth, passed us, and saluted us; and then presently we came in sight of Nazareth itself, comfortably situated amongst its hills. We pitched on a green open space, just outside the town, preferring the usual comforts of our tent, to the suspiciously-clean divans and cushions of the convents. In the side of the hill just behind us were several caves, apparently artificial; one of them had very much the appearance of a tomb. Not far off, was a grove of caroob trees, with their sharplypointed, evergreen leaves. It was on the husk of the fruit of this tree, that the Prodigal Son is represented to have supported himself. It resembles the pod of a bean, and affords food for some animals now.

March 17.

To-day we were glad of a rest. The morning being wet, we employed it sitting inside our tent, in writing our journals, letters, &c.; and in the afternoon we sallied out to see the curiosities of the place. For it is unfortunately the case here, as in most other places in the country, that the traditions connected with ancient sites and spots are more curious than true. We first entered the church of the Latin convent, whose monks are Spanish, and of the Franciscan order. They shew you the room of the Annunciation, (underground as usual,) containing a number of altars and paintings, besides the mutilated remains of a pillar still standing, which, though it had a long story to tell, we unfortunately could not get to be informed about. Further in are more rooms, which are supposed also to have belonged to the house of the Virgin. These are all underneath the church; and above is the choir, where there is nothing more particular to be observed, than a fine painting of the Annunciation, the subject of which is more than distressing. God the

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