ROUTE 33. TIBERIAS TO DAMASCUS, BY JISR BENAT YAKUB.

Tiberias to Khan Minyeh (Rte. 28
Khan Jubb Yusef
Jisr Benât Ya’kûb—bridge
Nawarán—ruined village
Tell el-Khanzîr, on rt.
Kuneiterah—a ruin
Sa’sa’.
Khan esh-
Kaukab .
Damascus (Rte. 31)

This route is neither safe nor interesting. It is but little travelled, and there is nothing along it to tempt one to run any risks. Its only recommendation is the rich pastoral scenery of the Jaulân. The greater part of the country through which it runs is without settled habitation—wholly given up to the wild Arabs of the desert, who pitch their tents by its fountains, and pasture their flocks upon its luxuriant herbage. From the point where we leave the shores of the Sea of Galilee till we reach the plain of Damascus, we pass but one inhabited village. The words of the prophet are fulfilled— “And the cities that are inhabited shall be laid waste, and the land shall be desolate.” (Ezek. xii. 20.)

Our path lies along the solitary shores of the lake, past the few miserable hovels of Mejdel, the only memorials of the city of Mary Magdalene, to the deserted site of Capernaum (Rte. 28). We then climb the hill to Khan Jubb Yûsef (Rte. 29); and ride along the table-land between the hills of Safed and the ravine of the Jordan for nearly 2 hrs., and at last make a rapid descent to the bank of the sacred river.

Strange enough that a modern bridge over it retains the name of the patriarch who crossed it, but not at this spot, a young adventurer, with his staff in his hand. (Gen. Xxxii. 10.) Why the word “daughters”’ should be added is a mystery—yet so it is: Jisr Bendât Yakûb, the “Bridge of Jacob’s daughters,” is at present the only one that spans the Jordan. It has three pointed arches, that in the centre being somewhat larger than the others ; and it is in.excellent repair— a remarkable fact in this land of ruins. The roadway is well paved, but there are no parapet walls. It is evidently of modern construction. On the E. bank, about 100 yds. above the bridge, is a large ruined khan, like those we have seen near Tabor. The interior is overgrown with rank weeds, and a few thorn-bushes. In the centre of the court is a well-built fountain, or tank, with a fragment of a column at each angle; but

“The stream has shrunk from its marble bed,
Where the weeds and the desolate dust are
spread.”

Some of the old vaulted chambers are still used as a temporary asylum by an occasional passing traveller. A paved road leads from the bridge to the door of the khan; and another runs up the hill diagonally past the southern side of the building. They may be of the same age as the khan itself. At the western end of the bridge is a small round tower of very recent date, loopholed for musketry ; but the walls look as if a good kick would lay them prostrate. Beside it are two or three wretched sheds, occupied by toll-men and custom-house officers, when the country is peaceable and passengers inclined to pay. They were all deserted when I passed last spring (1857).

The Jordan is here a rapid stream, about 25 yds. Wide. Above the bridge it flows smoothly between alluvial banks, fringed with thickets of reeds and rank grass; and the depth is 8 or 10 ft. But just after passing through the bridge it rushes in sheets of foam over shelving rocks and among loose fragments that impede its progress and lash it to fury. The valley is narrow. The western bank rises abruptly from the water, and is covered with rank weeds and bushes. On the opposite side is a level tract, 40 to 50 yds. wide, carpeted with the richest verdure, and here and there swampy with springs. This tract gradually increases in breadth northward, toward the Lake Hûleh ; and a short distance above the bridge the W. bank sinks down into the plain which sweeps round the lake, and extends to the site of ancient Dan.

We have now a steep, winding ascent up the bank on the eastern side of the river. In ½ h. we reach the proper brow of the glen. The steepest part is past, but we have still before us a long tedious acclivity ; more gentle it is true, and broken here and there with broad terraces of level ground. Some patches of this region are cultivated by the Turkmân Arabs, who are agriculturists, though they live in tents. The richness of the soil and the luxuriance of the vegetation attract attention. Even the choicest spots on the plain of Sharon do not equal it. We are in BASHAN, whose fat pastures attracted the half-tribe of Manasseh—they saw it was a land for cattle, and they had large flocks. (Num. xxxii.) The wisdom of their choice, and that of their brethren of Reuben and Gad, none will question who are privileged to examine and compare the countries on the E. and W. of the Jordan. Bashan became famous in after years for its “fatlings,” its “kine,” and its “strong bulls” (Ezek. Xxxix. 18; Amos iv. 1; Ps. xxii. 12). And the traveller may see along these slopes the vast flocks of black cattle belonging to the Turkmâns, bearing unmistakable evidence even now to the surpassing excellence of the pastures.

In 1 h. 40 min. from the bridge we pass the ruins of Nawarân, on the 1. of the road. It is a small town, built of roughly hewn stones, and bearing marks of high antiquity. Fragments of shattered walls and many foundations still remain; but all thickly covered with a jungle of thistles and rank weeds. A few large fig-trees stand on and around the site, and a little fountain sends forth a tiny stream that trickles down the bank through trailing weeds. After passing this place the scenery becomes still richer and more picturesque ; groups of oak-trees, and clumps of shrubbery, and green meadows spangled with myriads of wild flowers, varied here and there with rough bushy banks. The remains of old stone fences are also seen encompassing the square fields. In fact, the whole country so resembles a neglected pasture-farm, that one expects every opening will bring into view some venerable manor-house. But all is desolate. The very best of the pasture is lost—the tender grass of early spring. The flocks of the Turkmâns and Arabs el-Fudhl, the only tribes that remain permanently in this region, are not sufficient to consume it ; and the Anazeb, those “ Children of the East,” who spread over the land like locusts, and whose “camels are without number, as the sand by the sea-side for multitude” (Jud. vii. 12), only arrive about the beginning of May. At that season the whole country from the Jordan to the plain of Damascus is covered with them—their black tents pitched in circles near the fountains, and their flocks and herds roaming over hill and dale. The traveller who has enterprise and courage enough to pass this way at that season will enjoy a favourable opportunity of seeing those true sons of the desert, and true descendants of him of whom it was prophesied that he would be “a wild man; his hand will be against every man, and every man’s hand against him : and he shall dwell in the presence of all his brethren.” (Gen. Xvi. 12.) These words are still fully applicable to the Bedawîn. They are the scourges of eastern Syria. Their hand is against every unprotected traveller, every unguarded caravan. The hand of every settled inhabitant is against them,-both for defence and reprisal. ¥et, though fearing and feared, they dwell in the presence of all their brethren,—they return to their wonted haunts as regularly as birds of passage.

The ’Anazeh constitute one of the most powerful and one of the most numerous sections of the Bedawîn. They are divided into several large tribes ; and these again are subdivided into about 40 smaller ones, each having a sheikh of its own, and a distinguishing name. They acknowledge no one ruler; but there are several princely families who are the nominal chiefs of the larger tribes. The division or tribe which comes annually to this region is called the Wulid ’Aly ; and their chief, Mohammed ed-Dhûhy, better known as Ibn Ismair, is among the most powerful of all the ’Anazeh sheikhs, though inferior to some of them in rank. His principal influence is derived from his connexion with the Pasha of Damascus, to whom he furnishes a large number of camels annually for the pilgrim caravan. It is thought, however, that his intercourse with the government does not improve his morals. He enters the Haurân about the beginning of April, and moves gradually westward to the Jordan, which he reaches towards the middle of May. His people never cross the river, except to plunder ; but this they do often enough. When their flocks have either eaten up or trampled down the pastures of the Jaulân, the sheikh mounts his mare, waves his spear, and his “ children ” follow him to the lakes of Damascus, round which they encamp for the rest of the summer. The tribe has long been at war with the stationary Bedawin of Jebel Haurân, and their brethren of the Sâfâh ; and during the present autumn the latter by a sudden| raid carried off from Ibn Ismair 600 camels.

As we continue to ascend, the scenery continues to increase in beauty. The landscape, however, can only be seen to perfection by turning round and looking down the slope. When |we look up, the rocky banks, the rough stone fences, and the walls of the old terraces, are not only the most prominent features, but they hide the large green fields and meadows. When we turn our eyes downward the scene is completely changed; beautiful undulations of the richest herbage, varied with long belts of dense oak forest, and groups of trees, and single trees here and there—all tastefully disposed as in an English park. Shrubberies of hawthorn, too, and ilex, with a myrtle at intervals, are scattered along the borders of the forest glades. The multitudes of bright wild-flowers excite our admiration. Here is a meadow literally covered with buttercups; beside it are long banks of daisies ; then come whole fields glowing with tulips and anemones ; while cowslips, convolvulus, marigolds, and many others are scattered profusely among the long grass. The trees are generally the prickly oak—the “oaks of Bashan.” Many of them are noble trees ; but a great number are sadly mutilated. The Bedawîn lop off the branches for fuel and to make charcoal, leaving the stems in their places.

At 2 ½ h. from Nawarân we reach the base of a picturesque conical hill with a double top, called Tell el-Khanzîr, “ The Hog’s Tell,” probably from the number of wild swine that find a retreat in the dense forests round it. It is S. of the road, ¼ m. distant. It is the first we meet of a broad line of low conical hills which extends southwards from the base of Hermon. They are all more or less densely wooded ; and between them are winding vales, and green glades, and solitary glens that seem as if human foot had never entered them. The scenery, in fact, is charming— fresh and soft and delicately tinted. The road winds among the hills still ascending. Occasionally we meet with patches of the old Roman pavement, and tanks that have a look of antiquity ; but there is no sign of habitation either ancient or modern. A few black tents are visible at long intervals, safely ensconced in sheltered nooks; and bands of Arab cavaliers may be perceived winding along by-paths, or scouring the open meadow, their spear-heads glittering in the sunlight.

In about 1 ¼ h. from Tell el-Khanzîr the road sweeps along the southern base of another conical hill, some 500 ft. high. It is appropriately called Tell Abu Nedy, “The Father of Dew,” for' the clouds seem to cling with peculiar fondness round its wooded top, and the little wely of Sheikh Abu Nedy which crowns it. Perhaps the genial influence of the snowy peak of Hermon may extend even as far S. as this place, and Abu Nedy may be among those “hills of Zion” on which “Hermon’s dew” descends. (Ps. cxxxiii. 3.) On passing this tell we emerge from the oak forest on a verdant plain, level as a bowling-green, stretching far up northward between wooded hills; but only about ½ m. wide. On its eastern side lie the ruins of Kuneitirah.

Kuneitirah is a ruined village of about 80 or 100 houses, built on a low mound. Beside it is a large khan, now also ruinous. It was a strong building intended both for defence and accommodation ; and the country required it. It contains the usual conveniences of spacious caravanseries ; tanks, stables, vaulted chambers, and a mosk, Christians might occasionally learn a useful lesson from Mohammedans. With the latter no public building is considered complete without its mosk, or at least its place of prayer. The religious exercises of the followers of the False Prophet may be formal, and only formal. But form is better than nothing. There is something noble in this universal acknowledgment of a God, and in this universal recognition of the first duty of all God’s creatures under all circumstances—worship. It has latterly become fashionable in Christian England to put religion in the background—to separate the very thought of it from politics, from commerce, nay, even from social life. A man feels next to insulted if his neighbour ventures to throw out a hint that he is a responsible being, or that he has a soul to be saved. And the bare idea of attaching a chapel to an exchange, or to a factory, or to a great railway station, or to an hotel, would be deemed little short of madness. Just as if God had nothing to do with the government of our country, or the commerce of our country—just as if railway travelling and social life were beyond His province. The Mohammedans are unquestionably more, philosophic than we are—they recognise God boldly and openly in|everything.

GAULANITIS, Jaulán.—At Kuneitirah we are on the summit of the long ascent from the Jordan, and we stand on the side of the plateau of Jaulán. As seen from the W. a regular mountain-range appears toi run from Hermon to the hills of Gilead ; but here we see at a glance that the apparent mountain range is merely the supporting wall of a great terrace. We also see that, even at this place, there is no connected ridge—only a series of isolated, and partially isolated, tells, which terminates some 8 or 10 m. to the rt. The plateau of Jaulân is before us; but owing to the undulations of the ground in the neighbourhood of this line of tells, our view is limited. It is a fertile region, well watered by streams from Hermon and numerous fountains. Its pastures are reckoned among the richest in Syria, and the greater part of its soil is fertile. Yet it is now almost entirely desolate. There are only eleven inhabited villages in its whole extent. That it was densely populated in former times is proved by the fact that I possess a list of one hundred and twenty-seven towns and villages, all of which are mere heaps of ruins with the exception of the eleven, The province is bounded on the W. by the Jordan, on the the S. by the river Hieromax, on the E. by the Haj road. The northern boundary is not so well defined; but a line drawn from Banias in a south-eastern direction across Jebel el-Heish and the plateau beyond, till it joins the Haj road, may be regarded as a close approximation. Its greatest length is thus about 35 m., and its breadth 25.

The name Jaulân is identical with the Greek Gaulanitis, and it is the reguiar Arabic form of the Hebrew GOLAN, a city of Bashan, which was given out of the half-tribe of Manasseh to the Levites, and was also appointed one of the three cities of refuge beyond the Jordan (Josh. xx. 8, xxi. 27; Deut. iv. 43). Its site is unknown; but the province of which it was the first capital still retains its name. Gaulanitis is not mentioned in Scripture, though it is included in that “region of Trachonitis,’’ over which Philip the tetrarch ruled (Luke iii. 1). Josephus often refers to it, and gives us sufficient data to fix, with a near approach to accuracy, its boundaries. Much confusion has arisen from geographers overlooking the fact that both Gamala and Hippos were cities of Gaulanitis, and the districts called by their name were sections of the latter province (Joseph. B. J. iii. 3; 1; iv. 1, 1). The data for determining the boundaries of Gaulanitis are given in full in my ‘Five Years in Damascus,’ vol. ii. p 254 sq., to which I refer the student of ancient geography.

Beside Kuneitirah are some traces of a road, of Roman origin, but evidently repaired at a later period, probably when the great khan was built. We follow it down a very gentle descent, along the banks of a winter torrent, for about 14 m., to another and much larger stream, which comes from the N.W. Here is a deep and difficult ford beside the ruins of an old, perhaps Roman bridge. The stream flows with a lazy current, the water is deep—at least it was so in the beginning of April 1857—and the bottom is rough and stony. 100 yards farther is another ford, also beside an old bridge, now, of course, ruined and useless; The grassy banks of these streams, and the beautiful plain of Kuneitirah, form the favourite camping-ground of the Arabs el-Fudhl, who, though dwellers in tents, are to some little extent cultivators of the soil, and never leave the neighbourhood of Jebel el-Heish. Their chief sheikh has the title of Emir, and the governor of the districts of Jaulân and Kuneitirah usually resides either in his tents or in those of the Turkmân. Both the Fudhl and the Turkmân pay taxes to the government.

The path now runs through a desolate region, so abundantly watered by fountains and streams as to be in early spring almost a continuous morass. About 3m. to the l. is the low ridge of Jebel el-Heish, and on the rt. is a rising ground bounding the view eastward. The soil is fertile, and covered with luxuriant grass, though in places very stony. The traces of fields and fences, and other marks of former cultivation, are everywhere visible; but the land is now “without an inhabitant.’’ In ½ h. an ancient paved road crosses our path, running from E. to W.; and in another ½ h. we pass close to a large ruined khan called Kerâneh (the Kereymbe of Burckhardt). It is ½ m. to the W. of the road. Beside it are the ruins of a village. Here also we can just see the white minaret and dome of the village of Jeba, over the southern shoulder of a tell of the same name, 14 m. to the rt. Passing the western slope of the tell through a thin shubbery of hawthorn and dwarf oak, we descend a rocky slope to a wady through which winds a little stream. Here are long sections of a finely paved road quite perfect, and two bridges, still passable, across the double channel of the rivulet. The road now sweeps along the western slope of another hill called Tell esh-Shahm, and here we get our first view of the lower range of Anti-lebanon which bounds the plain of Damascus. The rounded summit of Jebel Tinîyeh stands out prominently on the distant horizon, marking the direction of the old city, which is in a line with it, though 12 m. nearer us.

Jedûr, ITURÆA.—We are now in the province of Jedûr. The village of Jebâ is on the northern border of Jaulân, and Jedûr adjoins it. Immediately after passing Tell esh-Shahm we enter a wild rocky plain called Nukkar S‘as’a. The surface of the ground is entirely covered with jagged rocks; here heaped up in great piles, and there sunk into deep pits : at one place smooth and naked, and so regular as to resemble closely-jointed pavement; at another seamed with deep fissures, in whose chinks spring up rank grass and weeds. The rock is all basalt, and the formation similar to that of the Lejah. (See Index.) The molten lava seems to have issued from the earth through innumerable pores, to have spread over the whole plain, and then to have been rent and shattered in the act of cooling. The Roman road runs through the centre of it, and is still in places almost perfect; the pavement being close and smooth as if finished yesterday. In 1 ½ h. from ‘Tell esh-Shahm we emerge from the wilderness of rocks beside the large khan of S‘as’a.

The province of Ituræa, with which Jedûr is identical, is only once mentioned in Scripture—Philip was “Tetrarch of Iturea and the region of Trachonitis” (Luke iii. 1). But the country became historic long before the rule of the Herodian family, or even the advent of the Greeks. Jetûr was a son of Ishmael, and he gave his name, like the rest of his brethren, to the little province he colonized (Gen. xxv. 15, 56). In after years, when the Israelites had settled in Canaan, a war sprang up between the half-tribe of Manasseh and the “Hagarites (or Ishmaelites), Jetûr, and Nephish, and Nodab.” The latter were conquered, and “the children of the half-tribe of Manasseh dwelt in the land, and they increased from Bashan unto Baal-Hermon, and Senir, and unto Mount Hermon.” They already possessed the plateau of Jaulân, and the whole of the Haurân on the E. of it; and now they conquered and colonized the little province of Jedûr (the Arabic form of the Hebrew Jetûr), which lay between their other possessions and Mount Hermon. How minutely accurate is Bible topography! (1 Chron. v. 19-23.) Subsequent history shows that the hardy Ishmaelites were neither annihilated nor entirely dispossessed, for, in the second century before our era, Aristobulos king of the Jews conquered the province and gave the people their choice of Judaism or banishment (Jos. Ant. xiii. 11, 3). The physical geography of the country, here as elsewhere, serves to illustrate history. The Ituræans retired for a time, before a more powerful enemy, to the recesses of this rocky plain, and to the rugged heights of Hermon—just as the Arabs el-Fudhl do now on the approach of the ’Anazeh. The old Ituræans seem to have been a brave people, attached to their country, fond of liberty, and with a hereditary tendency to pillage. Strabo briefly describes them as κακουργοι πάντες (criminals everywhere) and probably most of their neighbours agreed with him. They have not lost their character yet. The modern province of Jedûr probably coincides in extent with the ancient Ituræa. It extends from the northern border of Jaulân to the banks of the river Jennâny, and from the eastern base of Hermon to the Haj road. It contains thirty-eight towns and villages, 10 of which are deserted, and all the rest contain only a few families of peasants, living in wretched hovels, amid heaps of ruins.

S’as’a is a small village built within 2 large khans. It stands on the side of a cup-shaped tell, which was an ancient site and a more ancient crater. The river Jennâny sweeps past its northern base in a broad shallow bed, and is crossed by a stone bridge. One of the khans stands on the northern declivity of the tell. The exterior walls are rude, composed of small black stones. Within it is the principal part of the village. The other khan is a fine building. The workmanship is not only substantial but elegant. The walls are of white limestone, and it thus contrasts singularly with its dark neighbour. At the angles are octagonal towers, and along the sides heavy buttresses. The gateway has a beautiful pointed arch. In the interior are a mosk and tank in the centre of an open court; with great numbers of vaulted chambers and buildings of different kinds round its sides. Now the mosk is roofless, the tank dry, the arched chambers in ruins—scarcely anything in fact remains entire except the external shell. A few families still find a shelter within it. The khan was built nearly 300 years ago by Senân Pasha of Damascus, at the same time with those near Tabor, and probably also with those at Jisr Benât Yakûb, and Kuneitirah. Now the commerce these were built to accommodate is annihilated ; the public spirit that projected and constructed them is unknown; and the whole country, like the khans themselves, is fast crumbling to ruin.

Our road crosses the old bridge; then traverses for ¾ h a cultivated plain—an oasis in the desert; then fords the stream of the Sabirâny, beside another ruinous bridge; and then enters a desolate waste once more. About ½ m. E. of the ford the 2 streams unite and form the river ‘Awaj, the ancient Pharpar. It sweeps along in a deep narrow bed, “tortuous " as the name implies—confined on the one side by a rugged wall of volcanic rock, and on the other by cliffs of limestone. The former affords some fine specimens of columnar basalt. The whole country away to the rt., almost as far as the eye can see, is a plain covered with jagged rocks, and dotted with conical tells. On the 1. is a bleak undulating waste, scantily clothed with a brownish thorny shrub, that gives it all the dreary aspect of a Scotch moor. The only variety along this desolate track isa little glen crossing the path at rt. angles, in which are a number of heaps of small stones, and thorn-bushes garnished with hundreds of rags. It used to be, and occasionally is still, a favourite haunt of Druze; and Arab robbers in times of civil commotion. The stone-heaps mark |the graves of murdered travellers; and the shreds and patches are the offerings of more fortunate voyagers to the manes of the dead. The glen falls into the ‘Awaj on the rt. a few hundred yds. distant, near the spot where a large canal leads off from the river a supply of water for the plain of Damascus.

As we advance traces of the old road appear here and there. It is broad and well paved ; running along in the true Roman style, straight as an arrow. We soon pass Khan esh-Shîh, an old caravansery with high walls and low door, affording a pretty intelligent hint of the character of the country. It is occupied by a few families of peasants and shepherds. The canal is close on our rt., and the river about 1 m. distant ; between the two is a rich cultivated plain, in which, near the banks of the Awaj, are several small villages. From the khan we can look down the valley as far as Kesweh, where the river enters the glen between the parallel ridges of Jebel el-Aswad and Jebel Mâni’a. The whole district watered by the "Awaj is called Wady el-’Ajam, the “valley of the Persians,’’ but when or why it got the name is a mystery. The road crosses the canal, traverses an undulating plain, and passes between 2 low hills at the western end of Jebel el-Aswad. On the summit of that to the 1. is the village of Jûneh, and on that to the rt. Kaukab—both black, bleak, and ruinous, Here we get our first view of the great plain of Damascus, and of the tapering minarets and swelling domes of the city itself, rising up out of a sea of verdure ; and here a tradition, as old at least as the time of the crusades, fixed the scene of Paul's conversion. There is nothing in the Scripture narrative to enable us to identify the spot: “And as he journeyed, he came near Damascus; and suddenly there shined round about him a light from heaven” (Acts ix. 3). Somewhere near the city—near it in comparison with the long distance he had travelled—the event occurred. The exact locality is unknown; but as it was on the great road to Jerusalem, a mile or two backwards or forwards makes no difference on the leading features of the landscape. We see them to-day just as Paul saw them : the snow-capped peak of Hermon on the 1; the long bare ridge of Antilebanon running away eastward,. with the rounded top of Jebel Tinîyeh rising up in the midst of it; the broad plain with its various-tinted foliage and deep green corn-fields, here spreading out to the horizon, and there bounded by groups of graceful hills; the little villages embowered in their orchards to the rt. and 1.; and the bright buildings of the city itself just appearing above the foliage; the same cloudless sky, and the same fierce sun pouring down a flood of light from the midst of heaven (it was “noonday”’) on city, plain, and mountain. The same figures too gave life to the landscape : strings of camels bearing the wheat of Auranitis; Bedawy cavaliers from the eastern deserts, armed with their long lances; and industrious peasants driving their yokes of oxen with sharp goads—goads which forcibly illustrated, if they did not suggest, Jesus’ words to Paul: “It is hard for thee to kick against the goads,”’ xévrpa (Acts xxvi. 14). As the ox rebels in vain against the goad of his master, so is thy rebellion vain against the power of Divine Truth. ‘At mid-day,” as the company approached the city, with the fiery Paul.at their head, “suddenly ” a “great light” shone from heaven, and the greatness of that light he can comprehend who has seen a Syrian sun shining in his strength, and who reads that the light | which shone about Paul and his companions was “above the brightness of the sun” (Acts xxii.6; xxvi. 13). The closing scene of the drama and its results are well known. The conversion of Paul was one of the most momentous events of Scripture history. The fiery zeal of Saul the persecutor was not extinguished—it was sanctified. Saul the missionary retained all his former energy, and boldness, and determination. In Damascus he first preached “Christ crucified ;” ‘then he went into Arabia; then to Antioch; then through Asia Minor ; then he passed the Hellespont to Greece; and then he went a prisoner to Rome, where he preached the gospel though chained to a heathen soldier. Thé apostle Paul occupies the first rank among New Testament worthies, As a missionary, a writer, and a controversialist, he far surpasses all rivalry. And had Damascus no other claim upon our attention, the fact of its being the scene of Paul's miraculous conversion, and consecration to his sacred office, would enshrine it for ever in the memory of the Christian. (For the whole circumstances attending the conversion of Paul I have pleasure in referring the reader to Conybeare and Howson’s ‘Life and Epistles of St. Paul;’ but the topographical details are unfortunately very inaccurate. The several Scripture accounts may be seen in Acts ix. 1-22; xxii.6-13; xxvi. 12-20.)

Another remarkable incident occurred, probably on this very road, nearly 1000 years earlier. The prophet Elisha went from Palestine to Damascus. Benhadad the king, his old enemy (2 Kings vi. 11-13), heard the news and sent one of his principal servants with a costly present and an humble inquiry: “ Thy son Ben-hadad king of Syria hath sent me to thée, saying, Shall I recover of this disease ?’’ (viii. 9.) The messenger was Hazael, whom Elijah had been commissioned some time previously to anoint king over Syria (1 Kings xix. 15). Crafty though Hazael was, Elisha read the wicked designs he pondered in his heart ; and his searching glance brought a blush to the traitor's face. The whole circumstances of this tragic episode in Scripture history are thoroughly Oriental: the “forty camels’ burden” of “every good thing of Damascus,” a royal bakhshish to the prophet; the accomplished duplicity and cruelty of the confidential servant; the ease with which the murderer mounted the throne of his victim; and the subsequent barbarity of the usurper. I could pick out a score of Hazaels from among the local rulers of Syria during the last century.

But we must not linger on the borders of this earthly paradise. No Muslem superstition shal] prevent us from revelling amid its beauties. We shall roam through its fragrant gardens; we shall recline by its sparkling fountains fed by the waters of the Abana; we shall gaze on its palaces and mosks where the old Khalifs lived and worshipped; we shall visit houses, and enter halls, whose marble floors, mosaic walls, and arabesque ceilings, the most gorgeous descriptions of the ‘Arabian Nights’ do not surpass; and we shall stroll along bazaars where Damascus blades, and gold embroidered robes, and jewelled daggers, glitter amid piles of Eastern silks, and shawls of Persia and Cashmere. “Though old as history itself, thou art fresh as the breath of spring, blooming as thine own rosebud, and fragrant as thine own orange-flower, O Damascus, pearl of the East!’