Ex Libris ISAAC FOOT I A PASTOR'S MEMORIAL THE HOLY LAND, ETC. A PASTOR'S MEMORIAL __ OF EGYPT, THE RED SEA, THE WILDERNESSES OF SIN AND PAR1N, MOUNT SINAI, JERUSALEM, AND OTHER PRINCIPAL LOCALITIES OF THE HOLY LAND, VISITED IN 1842; WITH BRIEF NOTES OF A ROUTE THROUGH FRANCE, ROME, NAPLES, CONSTANTINOPLE, AND UP THE DANUBE. BY THE REV. GEORGE FISK, LL.B. W PREBENDARY OF LICHFIELD ; AND MINISTER OF CHRIST CHAPEL, SAINT JOHN'S WOOD, LONDON. SEDUfon. LONDON: SEELEY, BURNSIDE, AND SEELEY, FLEET-STREET; T. SIMPSON, WOLVERHAMPTON, 1845. DS107 ~ TO THE REVEREND HAY M. ERSKINE, M.A., MY DEAR FRIEND, WITH every scene and event recorded on the following pages, you have been, and always will be, associated. A friendship, now of some years' standing, commenced between us as yoke-fellows in the gospel, has been doubly cemented by a participation of toil, danger, and delight in the land of scripture -history. The assurance of this has mingled many a happy feeling with the labours of authorship ; and I cannot now forego the gratification of inscribing my faint sketch of our pilgrimage to you. We have wandered as aliens amidst the desolations of the earthly Canaan may it be ours to sit down eternally as citizens in the glories of the heavenly Jerusalem. Believe me, my dear Friend, Ever affectionately your's, THE AUTHOR. WALSALL VICARAGE, September, 1843. I THINK it right to avow, what the intelligent reader will, however, soon discover for himself, that as a literary production, this book is of small pretension. It is a sketch, and nothing more just what its title indicates ; and primarily intended to give my flock some instructive idea of the way in which the interval of my absence from them was spent. As a Pastor's familiar narrative, it contains many particulars in which the public cannot be expected to sympathize as those will who are so personally related to me. My journey occupied something less than eight months a space of time affording but little oppor- tunity for adding to those stores of information already extant the production of gifted authors, who taken altogether, may be said to have nearly exhausted most of the topics on which I have briefly touched in passing. I had intended to intersperse my narrative with certain views of prophecy, which from time to time have presented themselves to my mind, in a way not as yet fully wrought out ; and to add more extensive Vlll particulars of the state and prospects of Israel, as connected with those of the Ottoman empire : but I have been obliged to forbear, in the hope of turning my attention to them hereafter ; for my great difficulty has been to narrow my subject, without really contracting it; and yet to expand sufficiently without making it too diffuse. To be adequately treated, it would demand volumes. I do, however, indulge the hope, that those for whom this sketch has been more especially made, will not rise from the perusal with regret that they ever requested me to write. I may perhaps be permitted to add, that my materials were hastily noted down from day to day, amidst the wearisomeness of travel ; and, for the most part, under the influence of a trying climate ; and that this Memorial has been drawn up, not in literary ease and leisure, but amidst those incessant and higher demands upon my time which are inseparable from the spiritual oversight of a large manufacturing population. They who know me, and respect my motive in publishing, will look indulgently upon all the defec- tiveness in execution which they cannot fail to notice, and of which none can be more sensible than myself. I say not this to forestal criticism, but only to bespeak kindliness towards an effort for the gratifica- tion and instruction of others, in which, circumstanced as I am, I have done what I could. PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION. THOUGH fully aware of the growing interest which is taken in all that concerns God's ancient people and the land of their inheritance the birth-place and cradle of Christianity, yet I was not prepared to expect that within little more than eight months the first two thousand copies of so unpretending a volume as this would be exhausted. Such, however, being the case, I issue a second large impression with thankfulness and hope. I have done but little beyond correcting such errors as were incidental to the rapid composition and publication of the first. The gratifying reception with which this volume has been honoured, encourages my desire to produce a supplementary one, in which I might endeavour to work out the argument for a literal fulfilment of prophecy, based upon a view of the physical condition of the Holy Land, and the history and present state of the Jewish people ; but the pastoral oversight of a densely-populated manufacturing parish forbids that continuity of research and application which an early accom- plishment of such an undertaking would demand. I can therefore prosecute it only in those moments of leisure, which are "few and far between;" and though I may hope somewhat, I cannot under present circumstances promise much, however unwilling to relinquish the object of my desire. WALSALL VICARAGE, JULY, 1844. PREFACE TO THE THIRD EDITION. THE kind reception which the two previous editions of the "PASTOR'S MEMORIAL" have met with, induces me to add a third, in the humble hope that I have neither travelled nor written in vain. The present edition is an exact reprint of the former ones. My altered position will, I trust, favour my avowed desire to take up the subject of "THE LITERAL FULFILMENT OF PROPHECY;" and the encouragement bestowed on the present work, gives me the earnest of a cordial reception of future efforts. ST. JOHN'S WOOD, LONDON, OCTOBER, 1845. INDEX TO CHAPTERS. CHAPTER I. PAGE EUROPEAN ROUTE OUTWARD .... 1 CHAPTER II. EGYPT 65 CHAPTER III. THE ARABIAN DESERT; FROM CAIRO TO MOUNT SINAI.. . .... 113 CHAPTER IV. THE DESERT; FROM MOUNT SINAI TO AKABAH 161 CHAPTER V. THE DESERT ; FROM AKABAH TO DHAHERIYEH 193 CHAPTER VI. PALESTINE; FROM DHAHERIYEH TO JERUSALEM XIV CHAPTER VII. PAGE JERUSALEM .... 243 CHAPTER VIII. THE DEAD SEA, JORDAN, ETC. 295 CHAPTER IX. JERUSALEM, SYCHAR, NAZARETH, ETC. 329 CHAPTER X. THE ISLANDS OF THE ARCHIPELAGO AND CONSTANTINOPLE .... 403 CHAPTER XL HOMEWARD 437 CHAPTER XII. FINAL .... .... 455 CHAPTER I. EUROPEAN ROUTE OUTWARD, ETC. CHAPTER I. EUROPEAN ROUTE-OUTWARD. MOTIVES, ETC. FRANCE BOULOGNE ROMISH PREACHING CAVIGLIA FRENCH DILIGENCE LYONS ROMISH SUPERSTITIONS THE RHONE AVIGNON NISMES GENOA CIVITA-VECCHIA ROME DOGANA ST. PETER* S PANTHEON ANCIENT ROME ROME : " HOLY WEEK " THE POPE PAPAL BENEDICTION ITALIAN CHARACTER AND HABIT ALBANO VELLETRI PONTINE MARSHES TERRACINA APPIAN WAY FONDI MOLA TOMB OF CICERO ST. AGATHA CAPUA NAPLES MONTE POSILIPO VIRGIL'S TOMB PUZZUOLI BAI^E ANCIENT REMAINS CARMELITE MONASTERY ST. JANUARIUS NAPLES POPERY PURGATORY POMPEII ASCENT OF VESUVIUS VESUVIUS PROCESSION OF THE "HOST" SICILY SCYLLA AND CHARYBDIS RHEGIUM SYRACUSE MALTA SEA-STORM ZANTE MELITA MALTA SYRA CRETE MAHOMMEDAN DEVOTIONS FIRST VIEW OF ALEXANDRIA ARRIVAL AT ALEXANDRIA ALEXANDRIA. WHEN preparing this narrative, principally for the perusal of the members of a beloved flock at whose request it was undertaken, I felt that, in order to give a view of the manner in which the period of my absence from them was passed, I must introduce many a scene and topic already familiar to those whose reading has lain in the way of voyages and travels. I do not expect to add much to the impressions made on the public mind by travellers more extensive, and authors more gifted than myself; but I just entertain the hope, that many, who have not had much opportunity for perusing what has been already written upon the scenes of my pilgrimage, may participate the deep interest I have felt, and share the instruction I have derived from a visit to the most intensely interesting localities in the world ; and 2 MOTIVES, ETC. certainly, when I left the shores of my native land, with broken health and unfitness for the toils of parochial duty, it was under the persuasion that I was not about to travel for my own selfish gratification, but with an extended motive and I think a high one too, comprehending in it a desire to benefit my flock as well as myself. It is not an easy matter to depict the state of mind with which I prepared for an undertaking that looked so much like enterprise, to one, whose life had been spent within the narrow ocean-girdle of Britain, and much of it in the comparatively retired occupations of a Christian Pastor. Difficulties I knew were to be met, and dangers, perhaps, to be encountered, from the very nature of the countries and climates through which I proposed to travel, which might be trying and distressing to one, whose past connexion with home and the scenes and employments of home had been the source of comfort and delight ; but still, a great point was to be gained; and scenes which had become endeared and sacred to me ever since the Bible first poured its light and truth into my heart, seemed to invite me at a distance ; and well I knew that God, who had in ancient days manifested himself there to patriarchs and prophets and apostles and especially in his own dear Son, would still be there in the energy of his power, and in the tenderness of his love, and in the richness of his gospel-grace. As a Christian man, I went forth to visit the birthplace and cradle of Christianity, with my Bible for my guide-book and solace ; and it is a record of impressions made upon a Christian mind that I wish to present in these pages. It is neither my desire nor intention to describe emotions and sensations occasioned by the presence of venerable and sacred objects, for they, of necessity, must be peculiar to the tone and habit of individual minds, and therefore, not unfrequently obscure, and generally unsatisfactory to others, whose susceptibilities have never been awakened by the actual presence of the objects to which they may refer. Mere MOTIVES, ETC. 3 emotions and sensations are really very inconsiderable matters, though they commonly give a complexion to the actions of our daily life ; they are not of us, but they are about and within us ; they come and go unbidden, and without our controul ; they bear, in general, but little trace of their whereabout; they are ready to take flight at any moment when the wing of time and change prepares to waft them away ; and the heart on which they have lighted for a season, is apt to be as inconstant and changeful as they. But, there is a deep, inward process, far beyond sensation and emotion, which goes on in hearts directed and regulated in their movements by the Spirit of God, and which results in depositing impressions as enduring as the mind itself impressions from a die formed with the lines of thoughtful reflectiveness, and intelligible, on their exposure, to other minds acted on by a similar influence. The charm of all visible things, or the reverse, is the effect of some inward impression made by them on the seat of the intellect and the affections; and it is the province of such impressions to recall, not only the objects themselves, but all that stands in association with them, whether referring to the past, the present, or the future. And it is possible, in the way of simple narrative and description to give such a portraiture of events, persons and places, as shall bring them before the minds of others with startling vividness and reality; but that is not all we want. It is the invisible portraiture of things reflected on the heart, reproduced and given forth from mind to mind, which alone has power to satisfy the enquiring and rightly discerning spirit. And I am not without hope that such will read these pages with interest. 4 FRANCE BOULOGNE. When we weighed anchor on the Fifth of March, 1842, at the dawn of day, in the stirring port of London, and when I felt that a few hours would probably land me on a foreign shore, I could but look around amidst the forest of masts, and contemplate the indications they afforded of England's national greatness and commercial importance ; and in that contemplation, I could not help blending a thought of the vastness of her responsibility as a Christian nation, blest with the fulness of gospel light, and enriched beyond other lands in gospel privileges. Ten hours and a half of pleasant sailing brought us to the port of Boulogne. The first sight of the shores of France awakened in my mind many a train of thought bearing upon her past history as well as her present condition and prospects. True the age of her chivalry was gone, and perhaps some- what of her national glory departed : clouds had burst over her, and the volcanic eruptions of political terror had lacerated her : light and darkness had undergone many a conflict within her, and deep traces of the latter, in a spiritual form, were abundantly visible; but still no one could deny that there were yet left in France materials of a great and noble kind, on which a regenerative process, political, moral, and spiritual might act successfully. For this every Christian heart should pray; and if it please God that the movement towards spiritual light which has happily begun, and towards which many influential minds are now inclining, both in and out of the Church of Rome, should grow and effectually extend itself, there is no height of national greatness to which France may not arise. It was on Sunday the day after our arrival at Boulogne, that an opportunity presented itself of hearing a style and manner of preaching in the Church of Rome, calculated to induce and propel such a movement as that to which I have referred. After having attended the service in the English Chapel with comfort and edification, the bells of the parish Church announced the hour of vespers. I entered while HOMISH PREACHING. 5 the congregation was assembling, and which consisted, as most Roman Catholic congregations in France do, chiefly of females of the humbler classes. But few men are ever found among them ; which may tend to prove, that however the genius of Popery may prevail, yet that its outward symbols have but little charm for, or influence upon, the public mind. The caffe, the promenade, and the other various sources of mere gratification, seem to claim the Sunday hours of the greater part of the population. After the usual service of vespers, upon which I make no comment, a young ecclesiastic the beau ideal of a French priest ascended the pulpit, and addressed the congregation with great earnestness on the subject of the real presence of our Lord Jesus Christ in the eucharist. There was a degree of boldness and unrestraint in his manner of preaching, which left my mind impressed with the notion that it was not just on the side of the dogmas of a Church that he was declaiming, but on matters which were deposited in his mind with all the sanctity of eternal truth about them : and one remarkable feature of his ministry was that he earnestly appealed to the judgments of his hearers a novel appeal to come from the lips of a priest of the Church of Rome. Let but the people be invited and urged to form a judgment for themselves, and let the means and opportunities for right judgment be set before them by the unhindered circulation of the pure and unadulterated word of God, and the movement set on foot in France the element of which was contained in this young preacher's sermon must, under the Divine blessing, lead on to a happy issue for the spiritual interests of the French people, and others on whom their national influence may be exercised. I cannot forbear to record here a circumstance which affected my mind very sensibly. On the evening of my arrival at Boulogne, I had retired to my room, and on opening my Bible for my evening portion, the first passage on which my eye rested, was Isaiah Ixvi. 13 "As one whom O CAVIGLIA. his mother comforteth, so will I comfort you; and ye shall be comforted in Jerusalem" I am not wont to use holy scripture superstitiously, nor do I think it could justly be deemed superstitious, if I regarded this passage as given for my special solace and comfort on the very day I commenced my journey to the Holy Land. If there are any who would account me superstitious on this score, I should be much more willing to bear the imputation than forego the comfort which that word afforded me. From Boulogne, our route lay direct to Paris. I dwell not on the objects of deep historical interest which arrested my attention while there. They are familiar to most readers. The genius of the French mind, and the habitude of the French people, are both strikingly exhibited in every thing that meets the eye in that remarkable capital. One thing which afforded me great satisfaction was the opportunity of meeting the venerable Caviglia, so celebrated for his twenty years explorative residence in and about the Pyramids of Egypt. He was then in Paris. We had expected to find him in Egypt. Introduced by a note from a mutual friend, we visited him at his residence a small attic, five or six floors upwards, with barely room for his bed, a small table, and a little collection of books. He received us with frankness and urbanity. The history of this man is very remarkable and instructive. After a long life, spent in scientific pursuits, and in the search of truth in her many avenues, or rather in the many avenues in which she is commonly sought; and after labouring in occult sciences and pushing his enquiries, as he now believes, through the personal agency of the evil one, to their extreme point, God was pleased to land him on the sure foundation of revealed truth; and though in communion, nominally only I hope, with the Church of Rome, yet he seems to be aware of, and disengaged from, her sorceries. He is as simple as a child, and his sweet benevolent countenance beamed on us. He told us of the fact above alluded to, that there is a great movement, in the way of enquiry, going on in the Church of Rome in France ; and in this he seemed heartily FRENCH DILIGENCE. 7 to rejoice, as every man would, who, like him, has found his religion in the bible, apart from the traditions of men. I shall not easily forget him. There sat the enlightened, the distinguished, the Christian Caviglia, in his poor rude attic, without fire, without domestics, and almost without the usual conveniences of life, and with but few friends. He was within the mighty heart of Paris ; but infinitely above all that makes it throb with ever changing emotions. He says his great desire is now to die a little daily, that he may not have it all to do at the last. He seems like a man of a better age than this ; one who has fed on better hopes than the men of this generation. He has lived so long above the ordinary habits of the world, that it is now no matter of self-denial to end his career in an attic. It seemed to afford him satisfaction to see my dear fellow-traveller and myself two English Clergymen on our way to the Holy Land ; and when we rose to take our leave, he held us by the hand, called us his dear brethren in the Lord Jesus Christ, and prayed God to increase the number of devoted followers of our Divine Master. There was a touching solemnity in our parting. The door closed upon us. I felt that our next meeting might be where there will be no separation. I have made this mention of the venerable Caviglia, in order to put before my readers a memorable instance of the unsearchable manner in which our heavenly Father is sometimes pleased to dispense his grace, and to seek and find those on whom he intends his glory should rest. Our route lay from Paris to Chalons, through Charenton, Melun, Sens, Joigny, Auxerre, Avallon and Autun; and the whole of it was dreary enough. On quitting Paris, we experienced an instance of merciful protection not to be forgotten. The huge, unwieldy and overladen Diligence was driven by a wild, dashing and reckless fellow ; and as we were turning a very sharp corner, with a rapid descent in the road, at full gallop, I felt the vast machine poising under me, and all but dashed down on its side. The driver himself looked 8 LYONS. back, pale with amazement at finding we had escaped. Had it been otherwise, the consequences must have been terrible. The exit from Paris towards Lyons is in the worst possible order; scarcely two carriages can go abreast; but notwith- standing our recent danger and escape, the driver dashed on as before, and I felt persuaded that under his misguidance something untoward must happen. However, we reached the end of our stage in safety ; but another and another, as wild as he, assumed the reins throughout the journey, and surely it was no small cause of thanksgiving that we proceeded without mischief. The drivers of French Diligences are quite a people by themselves. Their endless talkings, shoutings, and cracking of whips by night as well as by day, admit of no hope of repose to the weary traveller. When we were near Sanlieu, suddenly one of the springs of the overloaded carriage broke, and rendered it problematical whether we should be able to proceed. A country artiste in timber bungled together a wooden support to the dilapidated spring, in the hope that we might be able to hold on our way. Notwithstanding our fracture, the heedless driver dashed on as if nothing had happened ; and when we reached Autun, a striking ancient town, and had made a suitable delay for needful repairs, we proceeded for six hours more .over roads impracti- cable enough to try the stability of any carriage less substantial than a French Diligence. Chalons was reached at last. Our route lay from Chalons to Lyons, on the Saone, a delightful sail of eight hours. The first view of Lyons is far more impressive than that of Paris itself. The unequal surface, and the more distant parts of the town occupying elevated positions, give an idea of extent and magnitude for which I was not quite prepared, when thinking of Lyons as the second town in the French territory. The view of Lyons, and of the adjacent country from the observatory, is extensive and most interesting, and far exceeding in my estimation the view of Paris and its environs as obtained from the top of the triumphal arch of Napoleon. "When the eye had traversed the far-stretching ranges of human habitations, and the busy, ROMISH SUPERSTITIONS. 9 stirring scenes of trade, commerce, and giddy pleasure, which seemed to lie at our feet ; and when it sought for still further objects of interest, there in the distance, appeared the snow- capped "monarch of mountains" Mont Blanc, with MontCenis, and the range of the Alps towering away, with bold and well denned outline, in strong relief upon their clear atmospheric background. It was a scene never to be forgotten : but how difficult to present to the mental eye of others, by the feeble though graphic instrumentality of words. It seemed to stand before me like the beautiful creations of a dreamy hour ; and I could scarcely believe that after so few days of absence from home, my eye was resting on those noble and far-famed mountains. After descending the observatory ,we made a visit to the much celebrated and ancient Church, near at hand, dedicated to the Virgin, in connexion with whose name numberless miracles are said to have been wrought; in token of which, the walls are literally covered with pictures representing the scenes and circumstantials of the alleged miracles some of them dis- tressing, some ludicrous ; and little models, in wax, of diseased members of the human body hands, arms, feet, eyes, &c., said to have been healed, are suspended in innumerable rows. In one corner of the Church I observed a wooden leg of the usual construction an offering made by a lame man, who had no further occasion for it, by reason of the miraculous restoration, I suppose, of the lost member, the place of which it had supplied. The useless wooden leg became thus a pious and votive offering to the Virgin. The mention of these things may at first excite a smile with many who see only the absurdity of them; but those who know what it is to live under the sober influence of a pure gospel, will see more than absurdity, and lament with me over these sad proofs of a degrading credulity, at variance with that faith which elevates the soul and purifies the heart. In the immediate vicinity of the Church were numerous shops for the sale of the various toys of Popery rosaries, crucifixes, pictures of saints, martyrs, &c. ; and amongst these degrading matters of commerce, a vast 10 THE RHONE. supply of wax models of members of the human body was ready to meet the intentions of every votive offerer. At the principal entrances to most of the parish Churches, there are stalls fixed for the sale of the small trappings of popish worshippers. From Lyons, our course lay down the lovely and picturesque Rhone to Avignon that ancient city, so celebrated in the history of the fate and fortunes of the Papacy. As the Rhone is less visited by English travellers than the Rhine, I dwell rather upon its rich and varied scenery ; and do not hesitate to say, that it produced on my mind more vivid impressions than even the Rhine itself, or the richer parts of the Danube which I visited on my return. The Rhone deserves far more attention than it has yet received. Travellers are frequently too ready to follow in a beaten track, and perhaps often admire scenes of celebrity more because others have admired them, than on account of any direct or comparative impressions which they themselves have received. From Lyons to Avignon the scenery is for the most part progressive in boldness and picturesque beauty. Always rapid, frequently broad and expansive, the rich river-current flows on majestically. It effects a junction with the Saone at Lyons. The bold hills on the right, or western bank of the Rhone, are generally clothed with terraces of vines from the margin of the river to their very summits ; and on some of them is produced the delicious Hermitage, the Vin du Perryae, as well as the Vin ordinaire of the country. The towns and villages on both banks are often bold, very bold, and always interesting as pictures, exhibiting as a prominent feature, the light gracefulness of the Italian style. White convents, and religious houses, occupying- often difficult and elevated positions, give great enrichment to the scene. True, we have not on the banks of the Rhone those fine remains of ancient fortification which impart an aspect of majestic grandeur to the heights on either side the Rhine ; but we have that which more than compensates the noble range of the AVIGNON NISMES. 11 Alps, with their snow-capped summits stealing in upon the scene at various bends of the river, giving massiveness and grandeur to the whole. While in conversation with an intelligent Englishman, whose avocations were connected with the Rhone navigation, I learnt, that among the mountain-population on either side of the river, an important protestant movement was progressing; that the priests were fully aware of it, and that many of them did not hesitate to confess that the people were no longer to be driven, but must be led. There seems to be no doubt that the personal influence of the Eomish priesthood in France is on the decline perhaps more than that, not only in the cities and towns, but in the more secluded parts of the kingdom also. This may be the effect of several causes separately acting, or combined ; such as the natural unwillingness of unregenerate man to submit to spiritual constraint, the growing influence of a practical infidelity, and a spirit of inquiry in the minds of the more thoughtful, which leads them to surmise the unscriptural nature of the spiritual and temporal dominancy of their Church. Dispensations and indulgences are however still sought for, and purchased at various prices according to the wants and ability of the purchasers ; and masses for the dead are doled out at from three francs and upwards. The approach to Avignon was graced by large numbers of almond trees in blossom, enlivening by their delicate and florid tints, the groves of olive and cypress amidst which they are planted ; and it was charming to find ourselves at length brief sojourners in the ancient city itself venerable in appearance venerable in its associations. Before the sun had begun to set, we ascended the elevation occupied by the fine old cathedral, from whence we commanded the continuous windings of the Rhone, along which we had so recently passed, and the rich hill-country through which it flows. * Pursuing our course towards Nismes, for the sake of visiting its ancient Roman remains, we again embarked on the GENOA. Rhone, amidst the charms of a sweet spring morning, while the rays of the early sun shed a peculiar lustre upon the mist-enveloped city of Avignon and its surrounding hill and valley. On reaching Beaucaire, we proceeded by land to Nismes, and soon were engaged in exploring its interesting antiquities ; in the foremost rank of which is the amphitheatre, in a state of preservation far beyond the more celebrated ruin of that kind in Rome. Viewed both from within and from without, on its walls and in its area, it presented to the mind a very perfect idea of the nature of those structures, in the barbarous use of which the Romans so greatly delighted. This amphitheatre still contains, entire, a great number of graduated sittings, capable, it is said, when in their perfect state, of accommodating upwards of twenty thousand persons. It was delightful to view this ancient fabric, and to know that the purposes for which it was erected had long since passed away; that never again would the fierce conflict and the death-sigh of the gladiator be heard there no longer would the cruel torture of contending wild beasts awaken a thrill of blood- thirsty delight in assembled thousands, enveloped in the shades of pagan darkness. A vast moral change had been wrought, and the record of its triumph is written by time on the crumbling walls of this scene of suffering and of blood. From Nismes we proceeded by way of Aries to Marseilles, catching distant and lovely glimpses of the Mediterranean with its deep blue waters, on which we hoped so soon to be launched on our way to new scenes of interest. It was with a fresh and stirring breeze that we embarked for Genoa, that seat of ancient greatness, so replete with rich associations. We were almost immediately under weigh soon passed out of the harbour, and in a few minutes were upon the blue, beautiful and majestic waters, reflecting the deep azure of the heavens, and laughing in the bright sunlight. Day passed charmingly ; and night, with her moonlit-solemnities, kept me wakeful on deck for many an hour. When the morning broke, we found the shores of Italy on our GENOA. 13 left, bathed in that sweet misty light which enriches and mellows the landscape on which it falls. We were in the gulph of Genoa, and soon its port became distinctly visible. Genoa, as viewed from the harbour, is very lovely. It is flanked by a chain of mountains, of bold and graceful outline, on the sides of which the venerable mass is built ; and far towards the left are seen the snowy summits of the Alps. The city was radiant with light, glancing and resting upon her towers, domes, turrets and marble-fronted palaces those remnants and memorials of a grandeur and of a glory which have passed away for ever. Having but one day allotted to Genoa, we gladly stepped ashore at the very first opportunity, and soon filled our minds with Italian associations by a walk through the Strada Nuova and Strada Balbi, where palace after palace of the most stately and graceful kind presented itself for our admiration. Three classes of objects occupied our attention, namely, churches, palaces of the Genovese nobility, and views of the city and its bay from elevated spots. The streets of Genoa, are for the most part narrow, yet bold ; while the rich and graceful style of architecture which prevails, renders every street and alley a fit subject for the pencil. And then the moving and ever changing crowds of population, in all the varieties of national costume women in their delicate gauze veils, or else of richly figured silk shoals of ecclesiastics of various orders monks, friars, and sisters of charity, in the habits of their several grades, made me almost feel as if what I had often seen in pictures was realized before me, till at length all seemed changed into one vast picture again ; and it will be remembered by me, just as we remember a picture. The Churches are in general fine in their way, and profuse in the Italian style of decoration, to a degree that becomes offensive to the more chastened and protestant taste of the English. While examining one of the Churches, I was much struck by the behaviour of a poor feeble old man who entered shortly after me. He made his way direct towards a small picture of our blessed Lord on the cross, which hung rather low; and having 14 CIVITA-VECCHIA ROME. fervently kissed the feet of the Saviour and gazed upwards with an apparently deep devotedness of manner, he sank slowly down upon his knees and seemed absorbed at once by the inward exercise of his soul a scene worthy of a better form of Christianity. Altogether, we spent a very charming though hurried day at Genoa; and in the evening embarked for Leghorn and Civita-vecchia direct for Rome. Civita-vecchia is a miserable little port, and presented on our arrival a scene of clamorous disorder not easy to be described. Shoals of squalid and eager porters awaited our setting foot on shore, with the most intense anxiety ; and when our luggage was landed, each article was seized by a separate hand, while fierce contention raged for a time between the successful and the disappointed members of this wild and ragged fraternity. At length luggage and travellers were safely conducted to the Dogana, where the former underwent the usual preliminary search on entering the papal states. Most of our packages, and especially a box containing my travelling library, were bound round with cords and sealed with an official seal, in order that they might undergo such a search at Rome as should satisfy a jealous and suspicious government, that nothing was imported tending to affect the safety of the " holy see." After a rough refreshment at a miserable hotel, we set out for Rome distant about forty- eight miles English, with a very unhappy equipment, which made it necessary for us to rest at Palo till midnight, or rather to wait, for rest was out of the question, amidst the most clamorous set of French, Italian, Scotch, and English I have ever beheld. Soon after midnight we resumed our wearisome journey. The sun was just rising upon the " eternal city," when we approached it, on the twenty-third of March. Excessive fatigue benumbed in some degree the sensations with which, under other circumstances, I should have approached a spot ROME DOGANA. 15 so deeply affecting as Rome ; but yet, I could not suffer the far-famed city to break upon my view without a retrospective glance at those by-gone days, along which the broad current of Roman story flowed on majestically, in contrast with the more modern associations which forced themselves upon the mind. Pagan glory, robed in darkness, as the characteristic of the former age ; and spiritual degradation, hand in hand with vast and fearful depravity, as the indication of the latter, supplied the elements of the moral picture on which my mind rested, as I drove within the walls of the modern city, crossing the lazy waters of the ancient Tiber. On reaching the city gates, we were instantly under the charge of a military escort that sign of a tyrannical government and conducted at once to the Dogana, where, at that early hour of the morning, our passports were demanded and our luggage all examined, with the exception of my travelling library, which had been secured by the papal seal at Civita-vecchia. This was detained, in order that on a future day, however inconvenient to me, it might be thoroughly searched by a proper officer, that I might not with impunity, bring into the papal territory, books included in the Index Expurgatorious of truth-hating Rome. Three days after our arrival, I attended at the Dogana, to be present at the examination of my books, after several hours spent in undergoing the various previous formalities. The system of espionage, which prevails in the papal dominions, is disgusting in the extreme, and repulsive to an English mind. The whole proceedings, to which I was thus subject, breathed the very genius of the inquisition. I must, however, confess that when at last we came into the presence of the literary Censor, and the box and its contents were fairly exposed to his view, he behaved with the greatest courtesy and consideration; and though the entire Scriptures in Hebrew, Greek, and English, together with several books, bearing reference to the restoration of Israel and other subjects of protestant theology, came under his inquisitive glance he read out their titles addresed me in good English, upon which he 16 ROME ST. PETER'S. rather seemed to pique himself, and said, " If you are satis- fied so am I ;" and permitted me to replace my little treasure of sacred literature in the box, and kindly facilitated my movements in what yet remained to be done at the Dogana ; but I did not escape without paying a duty per pound upon my books, bibles and all. Alas for Rome ! The "Holy "Week" had eommenced before we reached Rome ; and so great was the influx into the city at that time, that we found it a matter of much difficulty to procure accommodation of any kind. Having at length succeeded, and refreshed ourselves after our wearisome journey, we proceeded at once to the objects of interest which claimed our attention. We allotted to ourselves six days for our sojourn in Rome little enough it must be confessed; but we were anxious to press onwards to scenes of deeper interest still. Two main objects lay before me the one, was to see all that could be seen of Popery at head quarters ; the other, was to contemplate the remains of Rome scattered around me, with all their traces of ancient glory and ruined magnificence. Our first excursion was from the Via del Babuino, over the bridge of St. Angelo, commanding the celebrated fort of that name straight to St. Peter's. I feel difficulty in communicating to others the first and subsequent impressions made on my mind by that celebrated structure. On driving up to the grand area so noble in its dimensions, with its cool gush of graceful fountains flinging up their feathery streams to a great height, and returning them in rich dews upon the thirsty pavement; and on gazing forwards to the cathedral itself, with its dome and stately colonnades on either side, and with the splendid elevation of the Vatican the residence of the assumed vicegerent of Christ upon earth, looking down upon the vast pile with which it is connected, in silent majesty, and telling the dark story of many a departed day in the annals of the papacy there was in my mind a sense of disappointment, which was not by any means diminished when ROME ST. PETER'S. 17 I set my foot within the portico of the temple. On analyzing the state of my mind, I found that the sense of disappointment did not arise from any cause really induced by St. Peter's itself, but from the actually unprepared state of the mental perception. It is one thing to see with the natural eye ; another to perceive with the inward vision of the mind. I saw St. Peter's at first only with the natural eye ; and it appeared not indeed diminutive or insignificant, but small in proportion to the mental picture I had conceived of it. During my first visit I was not able to get my mind fairly at work upon the subject so occupied was it by the various things which fixed my attention at once, and in succession; and thus St. Peter's was still an object of disappointment. It was only after the second and third visit that I discovered the cause of this; when I found, that as my mind expanded over the various details of architectural magnificence so the grand whole expanded itself before my perception, till I became overpowered by the full sense of vastness. Every mind, I am persuaded, must undergo such a process as this, before the full effect of St. Peter's is realized. I began by a comparative view of things. I first took one of the nave pillars nearest to me at the western entrance, and saw how diminutive the tallest men appeared at its base. I then gazed upwards to the foot of a marble statue, which was so boldly colossal, that when I carried my eye upwards to its full height, it seemed at a point of elevation sufficient to be the capital of a main pillar of any ordinary structure. Beyond the head of the statue the pillar towered loftily, joined itself to the vault of the immense nave, and fell into junction with a corresponding pillar on the other side, down which my eye travelled till it rested on its base. I tried to view these two pillars in their connexion with the aroh of the nave separate from the lengthened colonnade of which they were the commencement; and having imbibed the distinct idea of them, I suffered my mind to carry it on to every succeeding column, till, resting for a moment on the high altar, with its magnificent bronze and gold castings, I glanced onwards to the grand eastern termination ; and then it was, 18 ROME ST. PETER'S. while thousands and thousands of devotees and others were pacing the marble area like pigmies rather than men, that I was able to compass the idea of St. Peter's as a temple fitting, in its magnificence, the noblest of all purposes, though degraded to the uses of a base and God-dishonouring idolatry. Of the statuary, with which every part of St. Peter's abounds, it is impossible to speak in terms of adequate admi- ration. It seems as if marble breathed and became eloquent as well as graceful and majestic, under the hand of the sculp- tor-magician. I could fill this volume with details of such matters ; but I must pause, and only mention one statue in particular, now designated as St. Peter, but once Jupiter. It is in bronze ; and the hand which once wielded the thunder- bolt, now grasps the key an emblem of power not less terrible than the other. It is a fine, calm, dignified statue ; and the right foot is actually w*>rn by the frequent and fervent kissing of devotees, to which it has been and is continually subject. When we reached St. Peter's on our first visit, the vesper service had begun; and certainly the music, consisting of human voices, without any instrumental accompaniment whatever, was of the richest kind ; but alas ! the spirit of devotion seemed not to influence the hearts of the assembled multitudes. After the service was concluded, a procession of priests of various orders was formed, from which certain individuals advanced and enacted the accustomed ceremony of washing the high altar with wine and water; next followed an exhibition of relics, such as the spear-head, with which the side of our adorable Redeemer is said to have been pierced ; a fragment of the " true cross," &c. ; and lastly came processions of pilgrims from all parts of the world where popery prevails carrying back our associations to the earlier ages of papal dominancy. The immense area of St. Peter's was thronged with visitors (amongst whom were many English), ecclesiastics of all grades and orders in their graceful and picturesque attire, and monks with their shaven crowns, ROME PANTHEON. 19 and the various habits of their order. It was altogether a most imposing scene ; but the great drawback upon it all, was the melancholy feeling, that religion the religion which saves souls and glorifies God, had no place in this splendid temple of a false system. On the twenty-fifth of March, being Good Friday, we had the happiness of attending divine service at the English Chapel, which is situated just outside the Porta del Popolo, on the road to Florence. The sermon was solemn and profitable, from Luke xxiii. 48. It was no small privilege to be permitted there in the very strong hold of popery, to hear the truth as it is in Jesus, simply and faithfully proclaimed. We occupied a few hours afterwards in exploring some of the more distinguished churches in the city splendid in decora- tion, as well as in architecture ; as if human wealth were possessed only for one end the giving lustre to the various appointments connected with a religion, such as that professed and taught by the Church of Rome. Passing onwards in our perigrinations, we reached the Pantheon the Pantheon of ancient Rome. Time had been, when perishing mortals received apotheosis there. But things are changed, yet scarcely for the better. The beautifully proportioned and graceful structure is now overrun with popery. Altars are erected at every part of the bold circle ; and popish devotees were actively engaged in what they deemed religious exercises, before each. On the steps of one altar lay a large crucifix, with wax candles in abundance burning on either side. Many persons knelt and fervently kissed the feet of the wax caricature of our adorable Redeemer, and at the same time dropped a small pecuniary offering into a little dish, placed for that purpose near the object of adoration. Money and devotedness are inseparably connected in the Church of Rome. The next object which fixed our attention was the Mons Capitolinus the site, and part of the ancient structure of the 20 ANCIENT ROME. Capitol, around which memory congregates associations of the most heart-stirring kind. In front of the Capitol stands the undoubtedly ancient equestrian bronze statue of Marcus Aurelius, with other works of art less perfect. It is as fresh as ever, and as nobly graceful. From the tower of the Capitol we obtained a general view of the chief remains of Rome's greatness, together with the far-spreading Campagna, and the course of the muddy Tiber. Directly under us, and somewhat to the left, were the Mamertine prisons those gloomy abodes of torture and death, in whose sad shadows the great Apostle of the Gentiles once lay captive and bound ; and near them, rather more towards the south, the remains of the temple dedicated to Jupiter Tonans, consisting of three exquisitely beautiful Corinthian columns of marble ; to the right of these the portico of the Temple of Concord, and to the left, the richly sculptured Arch of Septimus Severus. And there, too, lay the site of the Forum Romanum all silent and desolate : no voice of rivetting eloquence is there save that of other days which comes back on the breeze of fitful reminiscence. Carrying the eye onwards to the left, and passing the remains of heathen temples now transformed into churches, and bearing about them the trinkets and trappings of popery the Colosseum, that noble monument which attests alike the greatness and the littleness of Rome, stands prominently in the field of vision. Viewed by daylight from the summit of the Capitol, or at night, when the rich flood of moonbeams is poured upon it the Colosseum is indeed a wonderful object of interest. I contemplated it under both aspects, and the impression will not be easily obliterated. Time was, when the noble and the graceful, the royal and the gifted, the virgin and the matron, the poet and the philosopher found their places on those now crumbling seats capable of containing their thousands upon thousands ; and gazing on the vast area formed for deadly conflict, there sought, in the sad excitement of the scene, for gratifications which the graceful and rational pursuits of life had failed to afford. Popery has set up her symbols in that scene of pagan heartlessness, only exchanging one kind of darkness for another. Penitential ANCIENT ROME. 21 stations now surround the area ; a large crucifix occupies its centre; and indulgences are granted in proportion to the number of kisses which it receives from devotees. In the language of a forcible writer on this and other scenes of ancient and modern Rome, I only add "Erected by a Pagan, purged of its inhuman rites by a Priest, and propped in old age by a Pope the Colosseum shadows out some faint emblematical picture of Rome itself. It was once the stormy theatre of bloody deeds it is now the peaceful asylum of holy crosses. Part of it still stands erect or renovated ; part of it totters over its base ; but the greater part of it has vanished. Eloquent in its silence, populous in its solitude, majestic in its adversity, admired in its decay; the ruins of the Colosseum, like the remains of Rome, excite the curiosity of the antiquary, the ruminations of the moralist, the zeal of the Roman Catholic, the admiration of the architect, the sigh of the philanthropist, the sneer of the cynic, the humiliation of the philosopher, and the astonishment of all." Glancing onwards from the Colosseum to the right, the eye rests upon the arch of Constantine, the first Christian Emperor of Rome Christian, alas ! whose way to the imperial purple was tracked in blood. As a work of art it is still noble ; as a memorial, still valuable : but in the eye of the true Christian it is a blot on the escutcheon of the true faith. Returning up the Via Sacra, or Via Triumphalis, we find it spanned by the Arch of Titus, sculptured with the story of Jerusalem's fall under the Romam arms, and with the symbolic furniture of the temple in bold relief, restored after a lapse of nearly eighteen centuries, by a "succcessor of St. Peter." Whatever may be the feelings with which we contemplate the Arch of Titus and its sculptured trophies, and whatever the motive which led to its erection, whether pride, vanity, or ostenta- tion yet, there it stands, a record of prophecy fulfilled, and of the purposes of Jehovah accomplished in the destruction of Jerusalem, the sacking of the temple, and the final dispersion of God's ancient people; and there probably it will stand till the city of David shall again put on her glorious apparel, 22 ROME "HOLY WEEK." and the now scattered multitudes of Israel shall say " Blessed be he that cometh in the name of the Lord." To the right of the Arch of Titus, as seen from the Capitol, stands the Palatine Hill, crowned with the crumbling remains of those palaces in which the Casars moved the machinery of Rome's mighty and once irresistible empire. Not a trace remains of any thing, but of the perishableness of earthly greatness ; and of this there is abundance. The ploughshare has passed over those scenes in which pride and luxury and cruelty held united sway; and now, rank overgrowth and squalid wretchedness are left to declare how the glory which was not after godliness has passed away like a dream. If kings and empires were disposed to learn a rich volume of instruction is to be gathered from the Mons Palatinus, and the heart-humbling history which is embodied in the very name. I feel I must not linger amidst these hoary remains of the most wonderful empire of the world, crowding as they do upon the memory, and each claiming a full and elaborate description. My business is rather with that which is now moving and acting in modern Rome. During the "Holy "Week," we availed ourselves of all opportunities for watching the ceremonies daily enacted in St. Peter's ; and while marking the conduct of the thousands who thronged the area, even while the stated ceremonies were in progress, we could but notice the utter listlessness which pervaded them. It left an impression on the mind, that those who professed to account them sacred, were nevertheless entirely unaffected by them. Mere lightness and frivolity seemed to pervade all ranks, except perhaps a few ascetic monks, who paced stealthily along amidst crowds with whom they had but little sympathy. On one occasion, in the afternoon of Good Friday, turning from the general assemblage in the nave of the cathedral, we followed a large procession of ecclesiastics, of various orders, headed by a " Lord Cardinal," attended by his officers of state, into the northern side aisle, ROME " HOLY WEEK. 23 where, after having taken his seat under an enriched canopy, he received the public confessions of those who chose to make them. Hurried brief formal was the process ; after which, shoals of persons, both lay and ecclesiastical, knelt before him in succession, and received his benediction, which was administered by a touch on the head with a small gilt wand, something like a fishing-rod. Shortly after this, the Pope entered not in full state, though abundantly attended ; and, kneeling at a faldstool before the high altar, blessed the relics contained in a vault constructed beneath it. This is a custom of annual observance. During the Saturday of the holy week, there is a cessation of ceremonies at St. Peter's, and time is allowed for fixing the various decorations, in order to give a stage-like effect to the sad drama of the following day the day on which we celebrate the resurrection from the dead of Him who " was delivered for our offences, and raised again for our justifica- tion." Feeling that I ought to embrace every opportunity of seeing Popery in the magnificent form which it assumes at head quarters, in order that future protests against it might be based upon actual experience, I resolved on being present at St. Peter's on Easter-day. Popery, as it is, can be thoroughly understood only in Rome. We may read of it in books, and become intimately enough acquainted with its dogmas and doctrines and discipline. We may trace its insidious workings in our own land, whether it go like the serpent, or speak like the dragon ; but as to its power to influence the mind, by captivating the imagination this must be looked for in Rome ! As early as nine o'clock on Easter Sunday, we found the church thronged by those who were eagerly waiting for the ceremonies of the day ; while the whole extent of the area was lined by the papal guards in their picturesque Swiss attire, keeping a due space for those who were to take part in the proceedings. All Rome was throbbing with life and animation. Its week-day dullness, and moping inactivity were quite banished. All was glitter and 24 ROME "HOLY WEEK." glare and display. Carriages of nobles and cardinals the latter with their splendid gold and sumptuous scarlet trappings, thronged the streets, which resounded with the clattering of wheels and the cracking of whips. All notion of Sabbath quiet and peacefulness was at an end. I thought of Christ and his meekness, and asked within myself are these the genuine followers of such a Master? as my eye glanced upon nobles, cardinals, and inferior ecclesiastics, monks, pilgrims, and devotees, all pressing on together in a current of excited eagerness, as if to some secular spectacle. I took my station on the south side of the high altar, amidst one of the largest assemblies I ever witnessed ; and certainly, I must admit, one of the most picturesque and striking. Perhaps it would not be easy for the most vivid imagination to conceive any thing more splendid and dazzling in its way. And there was something, too, in the season of the year the blandness of the atmosphere without, and the brightness of the light within, that helped the mind and stimulated the imaginative faculty. It was at about ten o'clock that the great western doors of the cathedral were thrown wide open, while the choir within sang the introductory anthem. By and by, the papal procession began to enter, advancing up the middle of the nave, which had been kept by the pontifical guards. The procession was headed by soldiers in armour, followed by a large retinue of the civil officers of the Pope, in costume, and a great body of ecclesiastics, monks, friars, &c. in the various habits of their orders. Then came a representative of the Patriarch of the Greek Church crowned, accompanied by several bishops of the same church, and their various officers and attendants ; and after them, a very large assemblage of bishops of the Church of Rome, in their splendid and gold-embroidered robes and mitres ; next, a great number of cardinals in their state attire of scarlet and purple, attended by their train-bearers and other officials. It was, perhaps, half an hour before those who formed the procession had taken the several places assigned for them. "HOLY WEEK" THE POPE. 25 A large space behind the high altar, in which stood the papal throne, was carpeted and superbly decorated with gorgeous drapery of crimson and gold, and set apart for the distinguished members of the procession, except for the cardinals, whose place was immediately about the high altar, so as to be in attendance upon the Pope. As soon as all were in their places, a loud flourish of trumpets from without, responded to by another within the cathedral, announced the arrival of the Sovereign-Pontiff. Every eye was turned towards the entrance on the south side, where there is a communication with the Vatican, and soon was seen the uplifted golden cross of the Pope, and next, himself, borne aloft over the heads of the people in his gilded chair of state, under a rich canopy, with fans of large dimensions made of peacock's feathers, continually waving from side to side. He wore his robes of state white-silk and gold, and his triple crown. He sat more like an image than a living man, with his eyes for the most part closed, and occasionally moving his hands, as if in the act of benediction. His person is far from prepossessing, however the weight of years upon his brow might entitle him to be called venerable. I should speak of his countenance as being a bad specimen of the vulgar Italian. He was soon seated on his throne behind the high altar, and received the homage of bishops and others. His triple crown was then removed from his royal brow, and forthwith offered and deposited on the high altar ; and then, wearing a plain white skull-cap instead, he was arrayed no longer in royal, but in priestly vestments, for the purpose of saying mass, according to annual custom. During the whole ceremony, the Pope, aged as he is, appeared like a hale and active man. The scene was certainly imposing and splendid in the extreme ; but alas, no religious feeling could for a moment be connected with it. It seemed altogether a matter of mere external display and ceremonious pomp ; and I could not but feel how gracious a lot was mine, that I should be a member of a church through which both the bread of life and the water of life are really dispensed to the people. And, alas ! I thought, if a poor guilty and 26 PAPAL BENEDICTION. sin-withered soul, craving for salvation, had entered St. Peter's at that moment, he might have been dazzled by the church's splendour, so as to have forgotten for a season the burthen of his sorrows, but would have departed without an answer capable of bringing peace and consolation. The Mass was complete the host was elevated the idolatrous adoration of the " bread-god " was performed, and the immense congregation began to disperse, in order some to witness, and others to receive, the papal benediction from the front balcony of St. Peter's. Following the crowd, I made my way to the grand area without ; and it was an overpowering scene, when I beheld its vastness thronged with masses of people waiting for the remaining ceremony. I cannot say that they appeared like persons expecting to receive a spiritual benefit, and so far they were right ; but yet, there they were, alas ! the vassals of a sovereignty, which based its magnificence upon the ruins of spirituality. The blue of an Italian sky hung over us, and the lustre of the brightest sunlight broke upon the lovely fountains that were casting their misty streams far and wide. The great bell of St. Peter's and other bells were tolling, military bands were playing, and all were at the height of expectation, when at length, bells and music suddenly ceased, and a dead silence pervaded the bare-headed and attendant thousands. Immediately the Pope presented himself at the middle balcony, in his full pontifical robes and triple crown, borne forward in his chair of state, and gave the accustomed benediction signing it, as it were, by the motion of his hands. Some prostrated themselves on the pavement, while others fell upon their knees, and a few remained erect, as mere spectators. As soon as the ceremony was complete, a volley of heavy cannon thundered from Fort St. Angelo ; again the military bands burst forth with their acclamatory strains, and soon the area was empty and silent, except as it was traversed by the carriage of a lingering cardinal or noble, wending his way from the splendours of the Vatican. How sweet and refreshing was the simple scriptural worship in which we joined in the afternoon at ITALIAN CHARACTER AND HABIT. 27 the English Protestant Chapel: how affecting the contrast it presented to all we had witnessed in the lifeless formalities of popery, splendid and imposing as they were to the perception of the carnal mind. It is quite impossible to convey an idea of the state of Rome during the "Holy Week." It is a season which seems to afford a strong stimulus to the whole sluggish, sensual, and listless population; and has power to bring up from the provinces great numbers of such as delight in a kind of religious dissipation. When the season is past, the dull habitude of indolent indulgence returns, and soon afterwards Rome is deserted by the many who shrink from the summer temperature which is approaching, and from the malaria which breathes up from the Campagna, and carries disease and death in its course. Popery seems to be a system beyond all others adapted to the tone of the Italian temperament, whose prevailing characteristic is indolence. The Church is every thing, and it does every thing. It leaves scarcely any thing for man to do for himself. I believe the Italian mind, generally speaking, in its present defective state of cultivation, is quite incapable of those intense processes of thought and reflectiveness which the individual pursuit of spiritual truth occasions. There is a mental diligence and labour connected with real Christian experience, such as the Italian mind is, as yet, unprepared to exercise. Hence, then, the unlimited influence of a system which professes to do for money, what cannot be accomplished by any other means. The sinner rests his responsibility upon the Church. The Church professes to relieve and cherish ; and while drawing him to her maternal bosom, cheats him of the " sincere rnilk of the word," and binds him with a chain stronger than adamant. It was on the thirtieth of March that we bade farewell to Rome, en route for Naples. Quitting the city by the Porta di San Giovanni, we had on our right the remains of the 28 ALBANO. Appian way, with its fragments of ancient Roman tombs. On the left were the aqueducts those splendid and costly means for supplying Rome with her overflowing fulness of fountains, carrying with them in their course the proofs of her greatness in design and vigour in execution. The Campagna, through which we passed, was in all other respects bare and uninteresting. Our route lay towards Albano, near to which the Appian way is met by the more modern road. A drive of between three and four hours brought us to Albano, from the heights of which the eye could range over the whole Campagna bounded on one side by the Mediterranean, and on the other by the Apennines. And there lay Rome that once " mighty heart " with her now faint pulsation scarcely telling of life ; for Roman animation is not life life crowded with generous motives, and noble projects and elevated pursuit. But yet it was something thus to look down on Rome, as the scene of some of the earth's most astounding dramas as the seat of apostacy's worst form. On our right, as we descended from the carriage and proceeded on foot up the hills of Albano, we had a tract of rich agricultural country, bounded by the sea, which, from thence towards Terracina, was the scene of the latter half of the Eneid of Virgil. We were now on classic ground ; but there was created in our minds an interest far beyond all that associations merely classical could impart : we were on the very road traversed by St. Paul, when, after his shipwreck, he went up to Rome by way of Appii Forum and the Three Taverns, 1 the usually assigned sites of which places lay before us. Although, in all probability, the country has in most of its details undergone considerable change since it was visited by the great Apostle of the Gentiles, yet it was deeply interesting to know, that its main features the grand outlines of mountain, hill, valley, and ocean, as they now exist, had been gazed on by him. 1 Acts xxviii. 11 15. VELLETRI PONTINE MARSHES. 29 On the evening of our first day's journey we reached Velletri, and being anxious to proceed with all convenient speed, we renewed our route after a suitable pause for rest and refreshment ; and it was during the night that we crossed the Pontine marshes, the atmosphere of which is so injurious to persons who are not in robust health. Various and repeated efforts have been made for effectually draining these marshes, both previous and subsequent to the Christian era, but in vain. I was awakened from my midnight slumber in the carriage, by the wearisome croaking of the frogs, which swarm in all parts. It sounded like the heavy falling of waters at a distance ; and had I not heard it with my own ears, I should have deemed it incredible that such a noise could be emitted by such creatures. I should think the sound, in a still night, might be heard at the distance of three or four miles. The Pontine marshes are of wide extent, and are the effect of an anciently commenced and perpetually continued contest between the earth and the bright waves of the Mediterranean ; and notwithstanding all the efforts from time to time made to counteract their influence, so prejudicial to human life, still they send forth a malaria, which is irresistible in its effects. I awoke with a most distressing sensation of fever and thirst, accompanied by an oppressive fulness about the brain, which was probably the temporary effect of the pestiferous atmosphere. I asked for water where we stopped to change horses, but none was to be had fit for drinking; and in order to subdue in some degree the craving of thirst, I was glad to take a draught of poor sour Italian wine not very palatable at the best, when compared with the bland and delicate productions of France. It was Appius Claudius who first conceived, and who actually executed the bold idea of forming a solid road across these terrible marshes ; and remains are still to be seen of the canals, bridges, and private ways which were parts of the bold undertaking. During a great part of the period of those wars in which Rome was so frequently engaged, this territory, over which so much treasure had been expended, became 30 PONTINE MARSHES TERRACINA. neglected ; the consequence of which was, a perpetual succes- sion of inundations ; and, one hundred and fifty years before the Christian era, extensive and costly reparations became necessary. After long neglect, Julius Caesar conceived extensive projects for their improvement ; Augustus followed them up ; and Trajan, in his day, paved the main road, and rebuilt many bridges which had fallen into decay, and supplied additional ones. These lasted for a time ; but it was reserved for Pope Boniface VIII. to make more suitable and permanent improvements ; whose efforts were continued by Sixtus V. and Pius VI. Still, notwithstanding all attempts, the Pontine marshes are the region of misery and the abode of death. Ague, jaundice, dropsy, marasmus, palsy, mania, melancholy, there sit in watchful jealousy over the pulsations of human life. It was shortly after day -break that we reached Terracina, which is washed by the blue waves of the Mediterranean ; and though squalid and miserable in itself, as most provincial towns in the papal states are, yet it was a charming relief to us, after having encountered during the night the horrors of the Pontine marshes. Terracina was a Volscian town, and anciently named Anxur, or Axur; but the Greeks called it Trachina (i. e. steep), on account of the bold white rocks by which it is flanked; and hence its modern name Terracina. The ancient Anxur was situated on the rocky height overlooking the sea ; and remains of it are still visible. The Appian way passed through Terracina. After several hours delay for want of horses, we resumed our route, in the hope of being able to reach Naples, sometime in the evening or night, however late. On arriving, however, at the barrier which separates the Neapolitan from the Papal States, the lynx-eyed officer of a jealous government detected a deficiency in our passports. Although we took the precaution, on leaving England, to have foreign office passports, and though they were properly signed by the British and Roman authorities at Rome, they had not received PONTINE MARSHES TERRACINA. 31 the signature of the Neapolitan minister. This was fatal to our progress, and very vexatious. No remedy suggested itself, but that of entrusting our passports to the next Neapo- litan courier to Rome on the following morning, which involved the necessity of our return to Terracina, there to await the arrival of the precious documents. The hard-hearted official of the Neapolitan government had no commiseration whatever with us in our unhappy predicament; and back to Terracina we went with most unwilling steps. Having entrusted our passports tq a courier, we waited their return with all the patience we could command prisoners as we were in the hands of the papal authorities. Oh, highly privileged Britain ! through whose length and breadth both native and foreigner, with equal freedom, may make their route without the espionage of police, or the hindrance connected with passports. I wish those who bellow about freedom, in a land of liberty like ours, could just taste the reverse of liberty, as the slaves of Rome and the serfs of some other continental governments do. It would, perhaps, bring them to a better judgment. Terracina, like all other Italian towns, swarms with beggars ; and troops of squalid and ragged children, trained to that odious habit of life, beset you at every step. You hear their small voices in little more than a half whisper, as if they were almost ashamed of themselves, craving for the smallest donation ; and in this way they will continue to pursue you for several hundred yards, according as you may seem to look kindly on them or otherwise. The whole population of the papal states, so far as I had opportunity of observing, appeared miserably poor and destitute; and those at Terracina peculiarly so. No resident gentry are in the neighbourhood to care for the people, or give a tone of moral improvement to their minds. The Italian peasantry have but few wants, and are content with what would be deemed destitution by the extravagant beer-and-dram-drinking people of England. True, the necessaries of life are far cheaper in Italy than in England; but I am persuaded that if an 3 TERRACINA APPIAN WAY. Italian peasant could have the income of an English artizan, he would account himself a wonderfully rich man, and never dream of hardship or discontent. In the neighbourhood of Terracina, you now and then meet a fine intelligent- looking man, with a rich olive complexion, black hair and full black eyes, wrapped in his flowing brown mantua, and wearing the high-peaked and broad-brimmed hat. Though the Brigands are now nearly extinct, yet in the costume which I have just mentioned, you trace much that induces you to associate the idea of Brigandism with any such you meet. At Terracina I gathered oranges and lemons from the orchards by the way side, giving a trifle of money to the proprietors for permission to do so. A single paul is quite sufficient to procure all your pockets full of oranges and lemons. We found a few palm trees, the first I had ever seen, mingled with olive, orange, and lemon trees. The appearance of their graceful feathery foliage in the landscape, is very beautiful. In our walks we found great numbers of lively green lizards, scampering upon the rocks, and shining and sparkling in the sun. They are graceful creatures, both in their form and motion. Buffaloes are very much used in this country for the purpose of draught, and appear to be very docile; and there is also a fine breed of noble long-horned oxen, many of which are also employed in a similar manner. Having time at our disposal while delayed at Terracina, we availed ourselves of the opportunity afforded, for examining a part of the Appian way, which runs through the town, towards Rome. We traced it distinctly, in greater or less degrees of preservation, nearly to the point where it was met by the present road over the Pontine marshes ; and the greater part of it is as fresh, and in as solid a state as at any time during the existence of ancient Rome. While walking on this memorable road, it was not by any means an effort of the imagination to conceive that our feet were actually pressing FONDI. 33 the very stones on which St. Paul trod in his way to Rome, after having appealed to Caesar ; for it. is more than probable that he journeyed on foot, such being then the customary mode of travelling : and in earlier days it was usual, even for persons of distinction to travel as pedestrians. Horace certainly passed over this road on foot, from Rome to Mola di Gaeta. Alas ! what changes has Rome undergone since the day on which the Apostle trod the Appian way. How has gospel light become dim. How unlike is the Christianity now professed there, to that which had gained ground when he addressed his admirable epistle "to all that be in Rome, beloved of God, called to be saints." How deep must have been the emotion of his energetic and heavenly mind, when toiling along the Appian way, not only to make good his appeal to Caesar, but also to visit the church which Divine grace had planted in the heart of pagan Rome. - . -' On the third day our passports arrived, and we hailed the prospects of emancipation with great delight. We were soon on the road to Fondi, having sent forward a messenger to provide a carriage from thence to meet us at the Neapolitan barrier. Our passports were sufficient, and we were at once permitted to go on. Whether the general mendicity of the people, or the mean rapacity of the Dogana, be the more disgusting feature of this most wretched place, I cannot quite determine. The looks of the professed mendicants, and of the officers of the Dogana, were equally hungry and wolfish. Having passed the examination of baggage, and got free from the inquisitorial officials, we recom- menced our route on the celebrated pass to Itri the territory of Fra Diavolo, the once strong-hold of Brigandism; and certainly, the very aspect of the road, thronged by terrible associations of blood and rapine, is such as to inspire dread and alarm, however safe it may have become in later years. The pass lies through mountains, bare, bleak, and rugged, which sometimes appear to hem in the traveller on every side, and to cut off every avenue of escape from a merciless banditti. Itri itself, the head quarters of Brigandism 34 MOLA TOMB OF CICERO. with its strong-hold, occupies a bold and commanding position, and presents an appearance as wretched and degraded as Fondi. From Itri to Mola di Gaeta, the route was through the most charming variety of rock and valley, clothed on all sides with fine bold plantations of olives and vines, interspersed with orange and lemon groves, enriched and heightened in their tinting by the influence of a tempestuous sky, from which ever and anon the sun burst forth with amazing splendour and brilliancy of effect. The manner of cultivating vines in Italy is very graceful. They are not trained in the dwarf gooseberry-bush form of those in France, but festooned from tree to tree. Mola di Gaeta is a lovely spot, bathed by the waves of the Mediterranean. At a short distance from Mola, on our right, we passed the tomb of Cicero the erection of a manumitted slave who loved his master, and cherished his memory, when the artfully concealed blow of the cruel Antony and the dissimulating Augustus had laid him in the dust of death. It was on this spot, while on his way to a villa in the neighbourhood, that he received the blow of the assassin. And though Cicero was great enough to fill Rome with himself, yet no friend, in any wise his equal, could be found, either affectionate or daring enough to speak out from the marble of the mausoleum, against the atrocity of his "taking off." Two lessons we learn, while standing at the base of the sepulchral memorial; the one is, the emptiness and danger of the ambition which is of this world ; the other, the fallacy of friendships which are not cemented by the love of God in the heart. The former laid bare his bosom to the knife. The latter directed, and gave terrible energy to the stroke. At Mola di Gaeta we were in the midst of classic ground ; the scene which the imaginative faculties of Homer, Virgil, and Horace peopled with a race of heroes, gods, and demi-gods, from whose vices, passions, and achievements, the light and shade of the poetic page have been supplied. ST. AGATHA CAPUA NAPLES. 35 The dreams of fancy remain. The classic soil still breathes of other days ; but the lyre of the poet is now silent as the dust of the grave in which his ashes repose. Homer is a name ; Virgil a name ; Horace a name ! It was a bright April morning, which shed lustre upon the whole picture, when we quitted Mola, on our way to Naples. From Mola to St. Agatha, the route was charming, having on the left, the chain of the Appennines with their snowy capes, and on the right, the tideless Mediterranean, presenting an aspect of sweet repose. The intermediate landscape on either side is composed of olive grounds, vineyards, and corn fields a lovely scene of fertility and abundance. During this part of our journey, I observed for the first time, the abundant growth of aloes of an immense size, lining the hedge-rows, and spreading their broad bold leaves in a majestic manner, giving a very peculiar character to the landscape. From St. Agatha to Capua, our route lay through a plain, richly cultivated, and abounding in vineyards and corn fields, as if the bounties of nature were lavished in profusion. Capua is a fortified town, and a princedom; but alas, how filthy, wretched, and squalid. Heartily glad were we, when the wearisome repetition of police examination was over, and we were permitted to make our way still onward over the plain of vineyards and fields which lies beyond Capua. It was on the fourth of April that we entered Naples a spot of the earth so lovely, that it has exhausted the powers of lyre, pen, and pencil. What can I say of it, in a space so limited as that which it must needs occupy in this small volume ? What need I say, when every form and variety of expression has been used, to convey an idea of its surpassing beauty? Earth, air, water, sky, cloud, flower, foliage, light, shade, mountain, rock, valley, enriched with associations classical and poetical, make up the enchanting picture ! It is difficult to determine which is the most 36 NAPLES. attractive point of sight from which this wonderful scene is to be viewed. If we ascend to the heights of the castle of St. Elmo, and gaze down and around upon the rich and varied panorama : or if from that point of the bay which commands Vesuvius and its neighbouring campagna, we mark its own bold sweep, the rich tintings of its Mediterranean waters, and the varied grades of graceful and picturesque architecture dome, spire, convent, and palace ; or still further, if we wander round the bold and rocky promontory of Posilipo, with the rich bay, and the noble and admonitory Vesuvius on our left all, all is alike, admirable and charming. I have seen much of nature's grandeur and loveliness, and much too that is noble and elevated in art ; but in Naples, I found what I have never elsewhere met with, in such a state of wondrous and harmonious combination. It needs a far more vigorous pencil than mine to sketch even the outward portraiture of the people of Naples; and who shall adequately depict the interior ? All that can arise from the influence of climate buoyant spirits half-maddened vivacity impetuous passions ; all that can result from local associations picturesque fanciful capricious; and all too that can proceed from such a civil government and such an ecclesiastical system slavery, poverty, idleness, and moral degradation, are too visible on the very surface of the human current, as it ebbs and flows along the crowded avenues of the restless city.' The whole population of Naples gives the idea of immortal creatures forced into a delusive miscalcu- lation upon the purposes of existence ; and who, contrary to all evidence, have come to the conclusion, that gratification is the business of life, and that life and its prospects are compressible into a day. It would be difficult to associate the idea of a recognised responsibility with the aspect of a Neapolitan population. One would think that the almost only two faculties of the mind which they actively employ are the imagination and the memory ; the former heightening the excitements of the present moment the latter stimulating the causes of excitement. Alas ! they are moral agents, yet MONTE POSILIPO VIRGIL'S TOMB. 37 without true freedom ; and nominally Christian, yet without Christ. Their freedom is but an evasive licentiousness. Their Christianity is the pageant of a depraved and fallen church. While my memory is filled with glowing pictures of the loveliness of Naples, my heart sickens at the idea of its moral degradation, which lies like a deep alluvion formed by the endless ebb and flow of human passions, corrupt systems, unbridled carnality and godless destitution. What human depravity, under the reign of paganism began it has abundantly finished under the dominion of the papacy. Whatever may be the material for the regenerative influence of true religion to work upon, in the heart of the Neapolitans, I know not : but certainly, nothing would more fully prove the omnipotence of grace from on high, than the emancipation of such a people from their present debasement, and the uplifting of them to the true dignity of the children of God. But I forbear to dwell on this subject. Having occupied a suitable time in forming some idea of the interior of Naples, we set out for some of its environs. Amongst the first objects of interest was the promontory of Posilipo, and the adjacent localities. We commenced our route by the way leading towards Puzzuoli and Baiae ; and found just on this side of the subterranean road or tunnel, hewn in the solid rock of Posilipo, the structure usually given in prints and drawings, as the tomb of the Bard of Mantua. But on reading the inscription, and examining the structure, we found it was not so ancient ; that in fact, it was the monument of an admiring modern age, rather than the tomb of Virgil. The tomb, we ascertained to be above on the rock itself. Proceeding along the subterranean road, we met with a young Cicerone a ragged Neapolitan elf, who led us by the delightful route over the Monte Posilipo, amidst vineyards and orchards of fig trees. At every step, some new and lovely scene presented itself robed in that most magical combination of light and shade so common in this enchanting country. At length, after commanding one of the most superb views of Naples and its magnificent bay, we began to 38 VIRGIL'S TOMB PUZZUOLI. descend a little, and by degrees came to a spot, which might well have been selected by the Poet as the place of repose for his ashes. Though the silver cord shall be loosed, and the golden bowl be broken, and the pitcher be broken at the fountain, and the wheel broken at the cistern ; and though the dust shall return to the earth as it was, and the spirit shall return to the God who gave it ; though the grave shall be the abode of darkness, forgetfulness, and of loathsome corruption ; yet there is something charming in the way of anticipation however unusual the object of anticipation may be to lay our bones in a spot where the loveliness of nature is lavished as if to gaze upon it, out from the portals of the dark chamber, though debarred from all connection with the stirring interests and pursuits of human life. And thus the imaginative faculty of man carries a vague idea of consciousness and perceptiveness into the silence and solitude and forgetful- ness of death. The remains of the Poet's tomb are but scanty, and consist of a small chamber of about twelve feet square, formed of rude stones on the exterior, and entered by a low arch, and lighted also by a similar one on the opposite side. Round the walls of the interior, are niches, in which have been deposited urns containing the ashes of the dead. The whole structure is of rough Roman masonry, gracefully overhung by a ponderous spreading branch of the Ilex, or evergreen oak a chaplet woven and bestowed by nature in her poetic mood. The chaplet is as fresh and as green as the Poet's fame. The tomb itself looks, as it were, far abroad upon the bay of Naples towards those waters on which the eye of genius so often rested, as if he and they were to grow old together. The one has passed away. The others remain, with all the weight of years, but yet with the freshness of youth, upon them. I was anxious to visit Puzzuoli the "Puteoli" at which St. Paul arrived, when, having "fetched a compass" from Syracuse and come to Rhegium, the south-western breeze bore him onwards to the Italian shore. 1 At length, my eyes ' Actsxxviii 1113. PUZZUOLI BAI^E ANCIENT REMAINS. 39 rested on the honoured spot; and, reviewing the course of my journey from Rome partly along the Appian way, I was enabled to recall the scenes through which the great Apostle passed, pressing onwards to the "eternal city" a prisoner in the hands of a Roman Centurion a fearless witness of the "faith once delivered to the saints." Ages have rolled by governments have flourished and decayed, and dynasties have crumbled ; yet, amidst the wreck two things have remained permanent; the track of the Apostle's journey in the cause of eternal truth, and the record of his apostleship, written in pages of living light by the finger of the Spirit of God. Puzzuoli is now an insignificant town, as viewed at a little distance. Its inhabitants are very generally occupied in fishing. In the immediate neighbourhood are the remains of a temple of Jupiter Serapis, many parts of which are in good preservation, and convey a pure idea of its original beauty. Indeed, the remains of ancient Rome, in the immediate neighbourhood, are all deeply interesting to the antiquary, the poet and the philosopher. Proceeding onwards from Puzzuoli, we reached Baiae, the site of so many villas in the palmy days of Rome, when luxurious indulgence sought to vary and multiply its transient delights, which drew from Horace the sarcastic remark, that the Romans, not content with their own inland territory, sought to grasp the possessions of the ocean. In our way, we particularly noticed the remains of a villa of Cicero, remarkable for being the spot in which he composed his " Qurestiones Academics." The wing of genius had been expanded there; and now what is left? The broken arch, the ruined wall, and the mere echo of a name as immortal as genius could make it. Not far from this ruin, are those of the villas of Julius Cassar and Nero. Caesar, Nero, and their palaces, are alike dust. Time's wing has swept away the mighty and the cruel ; and a "has been " is all that can be said of either. Oh, what a dream is human existence, when viewed through the retrospective vista of long past years. 40 CARMELITE MONASTERY. The baths of Nero are still remaining ; and the peculiar feature of them is, that they are supplied with naturally boiling water, the product of the volcanic soil, lying at the more distant parts of long and low passages bored in the solid rock. So high is the temperature of these springs, that eggs are easily boiled by being put into a bucket and immersed below the surface. We found the temperature far too high to admit of our proceeding to the extremity; and, indeed, the attendant at the baths returned with eggs boiled, and dripping with perspiration from every pore. At Baiae, also, we found the lake Averno, the fabled mouth of the infernal regions; and also the famous Sybill's cave of Cuma. The former is but little calculated at present to stimulate the imaginative faculty, whatever may be said for the latter, to which we were conducted through long subterraneous passages, illuminated by torch-light ; and at length were fairly borne through water on the backs of our guides to the very secret recess of the Sybill's chamber. During our stay in Naples, we availed ourselves of an opportunity of visiting the monastery of Carmelites, situated just below the heights of the castle of St. Elmo. The monks were at vespers when we arrived; yet we were readily admitted, and proceeded direct to the church, where we found some very fine and effective specimens of fresco painting and rich marbles. The principal altar abounds in precious stones. We afterwards walked round the cloisters, in the centre of which is a small square burial ground, with little wooden crosses about a foot in height, just serving to mark the spots in which are deposited the ashes of men who have worn out their small allotment of days in the sad and withering inactivity of monastic uselessness. It was a humbling picture. We entered several cells which were remarkable more for their bad odour and want of cleanliness, than for anything else. Their furniture was poor and scanty, and gave but a slender notion of comfort in any particular. In one cell lay an aged monk in bed, sick and helpless. My heart longed to be able to set before him Christ Jesus and ST. JANUARIUS NAPLES POPERY. 41 him crucified apart from the lumber of the church of which he was a member ; and it was sad to be obliged to leave him with the darkness of death and error about him. But there was no help for it. We made a point of visiting as many as possible of the Churches of Naples, in which, however, we found nothing worthy of being compared with those of Rome. At the Cathedral the patron saint of which is St. Januarius, (whose congealed blood, preserved in a phial, is said to undergo several annual miraculous liquefactions ! ) we spent an hour agreeably, however painfully the superstitions of a corrupt church acted upon the mind. The general effect of the structure is solemn and satisfying ; and the statue of the patron saint, surmounting the high altar, is very effective. The Chapel beneath the altar is extremely curious. We were conducted to it by some of the inferior ecclesiastics, bearing lighted wax tapers. In it we were shewn the sarcophagus in which the remains of the saint are said to be deposited, as a distinguished object of sacred veneration ; but the ecclesiastics who attended us appeared far more anxious to receive our money, than to magnify the sanctity of their patron saint. Perhaps they were wise enough to suppose that any efforts for that purpose would be sadly lost upon two heretics, such as they must have deemed us to be. They were very thankful on the receipt of half a ducat ; indeed they seemed almost amazed at receiving so much. The clergy and monks of all orders swarm about the streets, and loiter in and about the churches. Idleness is the order of the day ; and then, the too common filthiness of their persons awakens disgust in all who have been accustomed to better things at home. In Naples, the symbols of religion the material objects of superstition meet the traveller at every turn. We noticed, particularly in the evening, when the shops were lighted up, that in almost all I think I might safely say, in every one, at the further end, there is to be seen either a picture or small statue of the Virgin, illuminated by lamps or 42 PURGATORY POMPEII. candles and more or less of these, according to the wealth or poverty of the people who are owners of them. And in almost every street, something like this is also visible. It is a common thing also to see fresco paintings on the walls, intended to represent souls in the flames of purgatory, with angels hovering over them ; while beneath, are inscriptions imploring money money, for the Church, to secure her aid in the way of masses; and then there is a little box in which the devout and pious may drop their contributions in aid not really of souls in purgatory, but, of the cause of superstition and ecclesiastical rapacity. Though doubtless the great bulk of the Neapolitan populace are perfectly indifferent to such things, yet there are some with whom such disgusting daubs and craving solicitations have their weight and influence. The doctrine of purgatory and the practice of masses for the dead, are amongst the most profitable traffic of the papacy. It would be curious, though revolting and distressing to the Christian mind, to see an accurate return of the annual produce of impostures such as these in Roman Catholic countries. We could not leave Naples without making a visit to Mount Vesuvius and Pompeii. The route lies through Portici and Torre del Greco, and is altogether destitute of picturesque objects. The distance to Pompeii is about twelve English miles. It was in the year seventy-nine of the Christian era, that the destruction of this celebrated abode of Roman vice and luxury was effected by a terrible eruption of Mount Vesuvius. Evidences, too conclusive, of the degraded state of the Roman mind, are abundantly visible in the various articles discovered during the labour of excavation, which has been progressing for many years. Some of these still remain in the form of fresco paintings on the walls; and multitudes of other kinds are deposited in the Museo Borbonico. Next to the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah there has never, perhaps, been a more signal and just retribution than that which overtook the luxuriously debased and brutalized inhabitants of Pompeii. It was when the cup of iniquity was POMPEII ASCENT OF VESUVIUS. 43 overflowing its brim, and daring licentiousness was at its height, that the wrath of God descended in the burning streams of Vesuvius. And the discoveries which have been the result of laborious excavation, most distinctly shew, not only the general habits and character of the people, but exhibit them in their very pursuits and occupations, at the moment when the tempest of divine fury burst over them, and engulphed their city in rivers of liquid and scorching lava. The streets of Pompeii are still as fresh as if they had been in use but yesterday; the track of chariot wheels is every where to be seen ; while on the walls, and over the door-ways of houses and shops, are to be read inscriptions notices advertise- ments, and other indications of activity and enterprize, of amusement and indulgence, of idleness and depravity. The temples, amphitheatre, and private residences convey a distinct idea of the manners and habits of the Roman people eighteen centuries ago; while the articles of domestic furniture and ornament of luxury and ease, still preserved in the museum, shew that, at that distance of time, human nature in its tendencies and pursuits was much the same as it is now in the nineteenth century. What gives so peculiar an interest to this remarkable scene, is the fact, that instead of being a Roman habitation evacuated of its inhabitants, and left to ruin and decay, it presents, as it were, a petrified reality of men and things as they existed in their day a synopsis of Rome in the first century of the Christian era. It is like a city of the dead, arousing itself to give testimony concerning the living who have passed away, as if they had never been. Every stone is admonitory ; and every marble utters a homily to the men of the present generation, whose footsteps break the silence of this scene of death and awful devastation. Looking upwards from Pompeii to Vesuvius, the picture is still alarming. The mountain yet threatens; while the indurated streams of lava which are incrusted on its sides, present a lasting memorial of terror. Preparatory to making the ascent of Vesuvius, we proceeded from Pompeii to the little town of Resina, and took up our 44 VESUVIUS. abode at a rude Albergo, from whence guides and all other needful matters are obtained, for visiting the terrific mountain. Here we procured a homely evening refreshment, with a bottle of wine produced from the vineyards which skirt Vesuvius. We lay down for a few hours of repose in a miserable apartment, awaiting the promised summons of our guide, who undertook to be in readiness at two o'clock in the morning, with torches, in order that we might reach the crater before the beams of the rising sun should diminish, by their admixture, the effect of the volcanic fires. We commenced the ascent soon after the hour appointed. The morning was very favourable, and not too warm. We had resolved to perform the whole expedition on foot, though both our guide and host strongly urged us to take a supply of mules as far as animals could be of service ; and assured us that the ascent would occupy three hours at the least. For the first two hours the road was not by any means difficult. It is a circuitous and gentle ascent, though rough with loose stones and rocky incrustations of lava rendered often inconvenient by the darkness, and the uncertain flickering light of the torches. At the expiration of the two first hours we reached the base of the crater, when the real difficulty and labour of the journey commenced. Our guide assured us that the ascent to the summit would not occupy more than an hour if we could but keep ourselves braced up to the undertaking. This part of the affair is usually performed on foot, being impracticable for mules. We made a pause of a few minutes for rest ; and then fairly gave ourselves the task. The ascent of the crater is almost perpendicular, over a succession of sometimes loose and sometimes substantial and solid lava. There is no regular path. We were therefore obliged to select our footing with the greatest care. . The labour of ascending was very great, and at times almost discouraging. Again and again we paused to take breath, while our guide repeatedly cried out in English, "Come on courage courage ;" and at length, jaded and worn, at the expiration of another hour, or thereabouts, we found ourselves on the brink of the crater. Folding my cloak VESUVIUS. 45 about me, I lay down for a few minutes upon the warm lava, and soon recovered myself. We arose, and proceeded ; and from the mouth of the crater into which we were enabled to look down, flame and smoke were issuing abundantly, rendered more strikingly visible by the dim twilight before sunrise in which we viewed it. - The scene which now presented itself was awfully grand, wild, and savage. The whole surface about the crater seemed ready at any moment to burst forth with its wonted terror, and was covered with sulphur and pummice- stones. On one side of the edge, looking towards the remains of Pompeii, our guide began to agitate the sulphurous material with his walking staff, which soon emitted sparks, and then broke into a vivid flame. There was a hideous and suspicious aspect about the whole, which made a deep impression on my mind ; and when I recollected the fearful devastation which this volcano had occasioned in other days, and saw how the secret work of combustion was still actively proceeding, I felt, to a degree most difficult to describe my dependance upon the mercy and compassion of God, in whose hand alone is lodged the power of controling and restraining, as well as of making actively destructive, the terrible apparatus by which we were surrounded, and whose unfathomed mysteries lay beneath our feet. The sun rose magnificently, and bathed in its early light the snow-clad Apennines, touching every part also of the surrounding landscape, including the city and bay of Naples, and the silent desolation of Pompeii. And how terribly did it exhibit to us the broad current of lava which had poured downwards to the plain in which that devoted city was placed. Perhaps it is not easy to find a scene more terrific in its general character than this, when coupled with a full idea of the extent of devastation connected with it, and when looked upon as likely at any time to pour forth the fierce streams of destruction on the surrounding and defenceless population. Having satisfied our curiosity in reference to Mount Vesuvius, we commenced our descent by a route different from that by which we ascended, and it was not 46 PROCESSION OF THE "HOST." without some fatigue and difficulty that we accomplished it. It is very curious to see the vineyards skirting the dread mountain, connecting at once the idea of cultivation and fertility with the utmost development of aridity and desolation. The brief period which we had allotted to Naples was now expired ; and we were anxious to be on our way for Alexandria as soon as circumstances would admit. It was the sixteenth of April, when a messenger announced that the steamer on which we depended, was in sight, in her course from Genoa and Leghorn, and would be in port in about an hour. This was between six and seven in the morning. On the arrival of the vessel, we learnt that she would not resume her course till about noon. We had time left for a little further examination of the externals of Naples. While sitting at the window of our hotel, after breakfast, suddenly I saw the crowd in the street stand still, as if pre- paring for some interesting scene. One put down his bucket, another his water jars, a third his itinerant merchandize. The business of Neapolitan life seemed for a moment to be all checked, and the mass of the people were immediately on their knees in the dust of the broad highway. A dead silence soon pervaded the whole. I guessed at once what it was. A procession of the " host" was in sight. It was the first and only occasion I met with, of seeing a ceremony so common as this in Roman Catholic countries. The procession consisted of ecclesiastics, followed by many of the laity, and was passing along a side street in sight of those who were in the main one. As soon as the procession had passed, the silence was broken ; the pursuits of daily life were resumed ; and men, women, and children again jostled together, apparently forgetful that any thing deemed sacred had for a moment occupied their attention, or suspended their activity. It was about noon when we embarked on board the Scamandre. We were soon under weigh, and had for our companions a motley group of English, French, Italians, and Greeks, with a considerable allowance of priests, a Franciscan SICILY SCYLLA AND CHARYBDIS. 47 monk, and four sisters of charity. The view of Naples and its superb bay, with the Isle of Capri on the right, was indescribably beautiful, as we bade farewell to this spot of the earth on which so much of nature's treasure has been lavished. A few hours, and Naples had vanished in the distance. A lovely moonlight night kept me on deck to a late hour ; and on the following morning, by about eight o'clock, the coast of Sicily was in sight ; and at length the eye rested on the snowy peak of Mount Etna. In the foreground, towards the right, was Stromboli, emitting smoke and a small quantity of fire, though but slightly visible in the light of the early morning. We made our way at an easy rate over a placid sea, towards the straits of Messina, and soon were sailing between Scylla and Charybdis, the former of which is a rock of no very large dimensions, on the coast of Italy; the latter a supposed whirlpool on the Sicilian side of the channel. Scylla and Charybdis, according to the fables of the poets, were two sea monsters, whose dreadful jaws were continually distended to swallow unhappy mariners. But, foregoing any particular reference to the fictions of poets, I rather present the following more interesting particulars, selected from the narrative of a visit made to this celebrated spot by the Abbe Lazzaro Spallanzani, of Pavia. "I first proceeded," says the Abbe, "in a small boat to Scylla. This is a lofty rock, distant twelve miles from Messina, and rises almost perpendicularly from the sea, on the shore of Calabria, and beyond which, is the small city of the same name. Though there was scarcely any wind, I began to hear, two miles before I came to the rock, a murmur and noise, like the confused barking of dogs, and, on a nearer approach, readily discovered the cause. This rock, in its lower parts, contains a number of caverns, one of the largest of which is called by the people there, Dragara. The waves, when in the least agitated, rushing into these caverns, break, dash, and throw up frothy bubbles, and thus occasion these varied and multiplied sounds. I then perceived with how much truth and resemblance of nature Homer and Virgil, in 48 SCYLLA. their personifications of Scylla, had portrayed this scene, by describing the monster they drew, as lurking in the darkness of a vast cavern, surrounded by ravenous barking mastiffs and wolves." "Such is the appearance of Scylla. Let us now consider the danger it occasions to mariners. Though the tide is almost imperceptible in the open parts of the Mediterranean, it is very strong in the straits of Messina, in consequence of the narrowness of the channel ; and is regulated, as in other places, by the periodical elevations and depressions of the water. When the flow or current is accompanied by a wind blowing the same way, vessels have nothing to fear, since they either do not enter the strait, both the wind and the stream opposing them, but cast anchor at the entrance ; or if both are favourable, enter in full sail, and pass through with such rapidity, that they seem to fly over the water. But, when the current runs from south to north, and the north wind blows hard at the same time, the ship which expected easily to pass the strait with the wind in its stern, on its entering the channel is resisted by the opposite current, and impelled by two forces in contrary directions, is at length dashed on the rock of Scylla, or driven on the neighbouring sands, unless the pilot shall apply for the succour necessary for his preservation. In order to give assistance, in the case of such accidents, twenty-four of the strongest, boldest and most experienced sailors, well acquainted with the place, are stationed night and day along the shores of Messina, who, at the report of guns fired as signals of distress from any vessel, hasten to its assistance, and tow it with one of their light boats. The current, where it is strongest, does not extend over the whole strait, but winds through it in intricate meanders, with the course of which these men are perfectly acquainted, and are thus able to guide the ship in such a manner as to avoid it. Should the pilot, however, confiding in his own skill, contemn or neglect this assistance, however great his ability or experience, he would run the most imminent risk of being shipwrecked. In this agitation and CHARYBDIS. 49 conflict of the waters forced one way by the current, and driven in a contrary direction by the wind, it is useless to throw the line to discover the depth of the bottom, the violence of the current frequently carrying the lead almost on the surface of the water. The very strongest cables break like small cords. Should two or three anchors be thrown out, the bottom is so rocky that they either take no hold, or if they should, are soon loosened by the violence of the waves. Every expedient afforded by the art of navigation, though it might succeed in saving a ship in other parts of the Mediter- ranean, or even the tremendous ocean, is useless here. " Charybdis is situated within the strait, in that part of the sea which lies between a projection of the land named Punta Secca, and another projection on which stands the tower Lanterna, or the lighthouse, a light being placed at its top, to guide vessels which may enter the harbour by night. On consulting the authors, who have written on Charybdis, we find that they all suppose it to be a whirlpool. The first who asserted this was Homer, who represented it as a monster, which three times a day drank up the water, and as often vomited it forth." "Charybdis is distant from the shore of Messina about seven hundred and fifty feet, and is called by the people of the country, Calofaro, not from the agitation of the waves, as some have supposed, but from KaXos (beautiful) and 0a/>os (a tower) that is, the beautiful tower, from the lighthouse erected near it, for the guidance of vessels. The phenomenon of the Calofaro is observable when the current is descending ; for when the current sets in from the north, the pilots call it the descending rema or current ; and when it runs from the south, the ascending rema. The current ascends or descends at the rising or setting of the moon, and continues for six hours. In the interval between each ascent and descent, there is a calm, which lasts at least for a quarter of an hour, and not longer than an hour. Afterwards, at the rising or setting of the moon, the current enters from the north, making various 50 CHARYBDIS. angles of incidence with the shore, and at length reaches the Calofaro. This delay sometimes continues for two hours. Sometimes it immediately falls into the Calofaro, and then, as experience has taught, it is a certain token of bad weather. When I observed Charybdis from the shore, it appeared like a group of tumultuous waters, which as I approached became more extensive and more agitated. I was carried to the edge, where I stopped some time to make the requisite observations, and was then convinced, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that what I saw was by no means a vortex or whirlpool. Hydrologists teach us, that by a whirlpool in a running water, we are to understand that circular course which it takes in certain circumstances ; and that this course or revolution generates in the middle, a hollow inverted cone, of a greater or less depth, the internal sides of which have a spiral motion. But I perceived nothing of this kind in the Calofaro. Its revolving motion was circumscribed to a circle of, at most, one hundred feet in diameter; within which limits there was no incurvation of any kind, nor vertiginous motion, but an incessant undula- tion of agitated waters, which rose, fell, beat and dashed upon each other. Yet these irregular motions were so far placid, that nothing was to be feared in passing over the spot, which I did. I could not, therefore, but conclude, that at that time there was no whirlpool I say at that time, since the case might be very different when the sea is tempestuous. I therefore made inquiry relative to this of the pilots, those especially, who, from their tried experience, were appointed to give assistance in storms to foreign vessels, and who had frequently seen Charybdis in its greatest fury. The following is the substance of the answers they gave me. When the wind and the current are contrary to each other, and both in their greatest violence, especially when the south wind blows, the swelling and dashing of the waves within the Calofaro is much stronger, more impetuous, and more extensive. It contains three or four small whirlpools, or more, according to the greatness of its extent or violence. If at this time small vessels are driven into the Calofaro by the current or the wind, they are seen to wheel round, rock and plunge ; but are never RHEGIUM SYRACUSE MALTA. 51 drawn down into the vortex. They only sink when filled with water by the waves beating over them. When vessels of a larger size are forced into it, whatever wind they have, they cannot extricate themselves ; then sails are useless, and after having been for some time tossed about by the waves, if they are not assisted by the pilots of the country, who know how to bring them out of the force of the current, they are furiously driven upon the neighbouring shore of the Lanterna, where they are helplessly wrecked." 1 This then may serve to give some idea of Scylla and Charybdis. It was night when we neared Rhegium and Syracuse spots on which I would fain have gazed, as connected with the journey of St. Paul towards Eome; 2 but there was no help for our being obliged thus to pass them in darkness. It was early in the morning of the eighteenth of April, when we were awakened with the announcement that Malta was in sight ; and by nine o'clock, we were safely in harbour, in the midst of British vessels, amongst which was the splendid new man of war "The Queen." The first view of Malta is picturesque enough, and bears much of an Italian aspect. It is altogether destitute of foliage, and gives an idea of distressing exposure to the sun. After obtaining pratique, or permission to land, from the quarantine authorities, we rowed ashore, and transferred our baggage to the vessel intended to convey us to Syra, which was appointed to sail at about one o'clock. But little time therefore was allowed us for getting a glance at Malta, which is quite a cosmopolite city, wherein people of all climes and kindred meet you at every turn. The cathedral is accounted a fine structure, but we had not time to examine it, nor the small church dedicated to St. Paul, said to be. placed on the spot where he shook off the viper into the fire without injury, 3 after his shipwreck. 1 Spallanzani's Travels in the Two Sicilies ; Vol. 4, p. 168. Nich. Jour II. 12. 2 Acts xxviii. 12, 13. 3 Acts xxviii. 1 6. 52 SEA-STORM. Soon after one o'clock, on the eighteenth of April, we embarked on board " The Dante," an ill-appointed and filthy French steamer : but there was no alternative, and we were obliged to submit. I could not help calling it " Dante's Inferno" We had on board a small party of Oxonians, bound for the shores of Greece; and besides these, an admixture of French, Romans, Greeks, and Turks. When we had been under weigh about four hours, the machinery was sadly out of order ; and it was feared that we should be obliged to put back. The French are execrable engineers ; and never have I seen engines in such a condition as these were. The mischief was remedied in some degree yet not so as to give me the least confidence of safety. We made way, however, without any further cause for alarm, though during the night the wind was rather boisterous. The next morning broke with indications of rough weather, which increased upon us ; and at length I was familiarized with the terrors of the sea. I here transcribe from my journal, what I penned down at the time after one of the most perilous and trying incidents of my life. I desire to retain, and to convey to others, the exact impressions which it made upon me. " April twenty-first. I sit down to my journal this morning with a heart filled with gratitude to Almighty God for special mercies received, in a scene of awful peril. Oh ! that I may remember his wondrous loving-kindness and forbearance, to the latest day of my existence ! I feel at this moment that I have been snatched by an almighty hand when human strength could not help me from the jaws of death. I have had abundant proof that God is a prayer -hearing and prayer-answering God ; and that even ' the winds and the sea obey Him.' The night of Tuesday, the nineteenth instant, was rough and gusty ; but yet, there was nothing about it to occasion the least immediate anxiety. I went to my cabin and slept soundly. The morning dawned with a threatening aspect ; and soon after breakfast the storm, which had been stirring during the night, gained head and broke upon us. Its violence increased every hour, until it became terrific. SEA-STORM. 53 Our little bark was but like a shell upon the whelming waters. Sometimes we were well-nigh buried in the ocean- depths on one side, while their surges broke over us ; and it seemed as if we must be engulphed by the suction of the angry billows. Then we were tossed up and down, till the vessel appeared almost as if standing on its head and stern alternately. I had often heard of seas running ' mountains high;' but I had never witnessed anything like the scene which now surrounded me. For twenty hours, that is, from nine o'clock yesterday morning till five this morning, I watched the fearful storm ; and during the anxious hours of the long night, I remained for the most part on deck, watching almost every wave as it swelled and glistened in the subdued and fitful moonbeams of the midnight. It was a trying time. All the other passengers but one, shut themselves into their berths; and he who remained on deck, lay along on the bare planks, and buried his head in his cloak. I held as fast as possible by the small rigging near the pilot's wheel ; but twice I was dashed upon the deck, while the sea broke over, and drenched me to the skin. How slowly how drearily the long, long hours lingered by. I thought of home of my dear family my beloved flock, and every familiar scene of home and of home-pursuits and occupations. I summoned them, as it were, into my presence. Imagination was pain- fully busy. I seemed to hold communion with those I loved, and who loved me and who little thought of the perils by which I was surrounded. They, I hoped, were in comfort and safety, and had borne me on their hearts at the throne of grace, before retiring to their midnight rest. I was alone as it seemed in the drear hour of darkness on the wide ocean, in a frail bark, with sailors in whom I had no confidence ; and perhaps, I felt, the end of all earthly things was at hand with me. On analyzing my feelings I cannot exactly say that it was fear, but it certainly was apprehension, which at length gained such full mastery over my mind filling it with terrible imagery as to bind me to its will, and keep me nervously and sensitively awake, while grasping the rope nearest at hand to prevent my being washed 54 SEA-STORM. overboard by the surges. Now and then, I crawled down the cabin stairs, and by the light of a solitary lamp drew comfort from the precious pages of God's holy word. A dear friend, writing to me just before I quitted home, had expressed a hope that I might realize the comfort set forth in the ninety -first Psalm. I turned to the golden passage; and never before did I feel, as I then felt, its force and power. It seemed as though penned for me alone; and as if divine mercy and love were speaking to me in it. Turning over my bible, at another time, my eye rested on Lamentations iii. 22 26 : ' It is of the Lord's mercies that we are not consumed, because his compassions fail not. They are new every morning : great is thy faithfulness. The Lord is my portion, saith my soul ; therefore will I hope in him. The Lord is good unto them that wait for him, to the soul that seeketh him. It is good that a man should both hope and quietly wait for the salvation of the Lord.' From these portions of scripture, my mind derived the sweetest serenity, peace, and assurance. My soul was lifted up to God in hearty and confiding prayer ; and though death seemed still to be spreading his dark pinions over me, yet, ere long, all appre- hension passed away even while the storm continued to rage wildly and horribly. I stood calmly awaiting the issue. Self-dependance and self-confidence, I had none. All was sought and found in God my covenant-keeping God. Such a process as my mind and heart underwent, accompanied by such a result, amply compensated all the trial I endured. I certainly had all along expected that the frail and crazy engines, or some part of the cracking and groaning vessel, must give way under the violence and heaviness of the sea. At length the moon struggled forth, and gave a partial illumination to the scene : but it only served to exhibit more awfully the stupendous magnitude of the waves which were singing and howling and hissing malignantly around us while, by the rapid action of the vessel from side to side, the moon itself seemed to plunge and dart from side to side of the firmament, overhung with dark and threatening clouds. In the midst of all that was terrible, I was struck by the SEA-STORM ZANTE. 55 beautiful exhibition of phosphoric light which played upon the waves as they were met by the paddles of the vessel. Sheets of light-blue flame of great magnitude sometimes shot forth, and were so bright that I could have read by them with ease, had they been steadily prolonged. Then the course of our vessel was tracked by innumerable spangles of the same phosphoric glare. Silence prevailed. Not a voice, even of the shipmen, was heard j and the pilot fixed at his post, plied his arduous task. At five o'clock this morning the day dawned, and the change of scene brought with it a considerable diminution of sea and wind ; and soon every indication of safety was mercifully afforded. Greatly worn and excited by the terrors of the preceding day and night, I went down to my berth, flung myself on my bed ; and though the vessel was still rocking and pitching, yet I fell instantly into a sound sleep for an hour or two. I awoke refreshed, and with my heart filled with unutterable gratitude to my heavenly Father, for mercies so great and eminent. Oh ! that my future days may be consecrated entirely to his service. At about ten o'clock we descried land on our left. We had been, like Saint Paul, " driven up and down in Adria;" 1 and instead of being amidst the islands of the Archipelago, of which Syra, the immediate point of destination, is one, we found ourselves far up in the Adriatic, but bearing down in a south-easterly direction. The land on our left proved to be Zante. Turning to the narrative of St. Paul's shipwreck, and con- sulting the chart carefully, it became a deeply interesting fact to my mind, that almost on the very spot, as it were, in which St. Paul encountered the like peril, we had experienced the special mercies of God. As to the particular locality, it may be remarked, that the only observable difference is this the Apostle was in his way towards Malta we, en route from it : but both were " driven up and down in Adria." That the island of Malta was the actual scene of the Apostle's 1 Acts xxvii. 27. 56 MELITA MALTA. shipwreck, I have but little doubt, though some, with apparent reason, have questioned the fact. It may be interesting to my readers to see a brief view of the argument on both sides of the question. LA TROBE, in his Scriptural Illustrations, says " There is some difficulty in identifying this island. The name and general suitableness of the situation, however, seem to verify the concurrent testimony of centuries, that Malta, in the Mediterranean, answers to the Melita of the Scriptures. This, however, is not universally conceded. It has been suggested on high authority, that a small island in the Adriatic sea, on the Illyrian coast, now called Meleda, was the Melita of the Acts. The most plausible arguments in behalf of this opinion are derived from its situation being decidedly in the Adriatic, which cannot properly be said of Malta, from its exact position in reference to a storm from the S. E., the island lying N. W. by N. of the S. W. promontory of Crete from the wildness of the island, and the barbarous character of its inhabitants and from the low, damp, marshy nature of the country, favourable for reptiles and fevers. On the other side it is argued, that tradition a good witness in matters of fact has ever assigned the locality to Malta that the winds S. E. E. S. E. and E. were equally calculated to drive a ship to Malta in a direct course from Crete that had the vessel taken the course of Meleda, there had been no danger of falling upon the syrtis that it does not appear that the Romans had ever such an establishment in Meleda as to require the residence of a pro-Praetor that it is not probable that a ship of Alexandria would choose such an island to winter in, which implies the arrival before the stormy season that in the event of a ship making the western course of Italy from Meleda, there would have been no need to touch at Syracuse before it could arrive at Ehegium." Mr. Bryant, Dr. Hales, and others, have strenuously endeavoured to shew that the Melita of the Acts was in the Adriatic sea, on the coast of Illyricum. Dr. Hales thus states MELITA MALTA. 57 his argument : That this island was Meleda near the Illyrian coast, not Malta on the southern coast of Italy, may appear from the following considerations. 1. It lies confessedly in the Adriatic sea, but Malta a considerable distance from it. 2. It lies nearer the mouth of the Adriatic than any other island of that sea ; and would, of course, be more likely to receive the wreck of any vessel driven by tempests towards that quarter. And it lies north-west by north, of the south- west promontory of Crete ; and came nearly in the direction of a storm from the south-east quarter. 3. An obscure island called Melita, whose inhabitants were ' barbarous,' was not applicable to the celebrity of Malta at that time, which Cicero represents as abounding in curiosities and riches, and possessing a remarkable manufacture of the finest linen : and Diodorus Siculus more fully Malta is furnished with many and very good harbours, and the inhabitants are very rich, for it is full of all sorts of artificers, among whom there are excellent weavers of fine linen. Their houses are very stately and beautiful, adorned with graceful eaves, and pargetted with white plaster. The inhabitants are a colony of Phoenicians, who, trading as merchants as far as the western ocean, resorted to this place on account of its commodious forts and convenient situation for maritime commerce ; and by the advantages of this place the inhabitants subsequently became famous both for their wealth and their merchandise. 4. The circumstance of the viper or venomous snake which fastened on St. Paul's hand, agrees with the damp and woody island of Meleda, as affording shelter and proper nourishment for such, but not with the dry and rocky island of Malta, in which there are no serpents now, and were none in the time of Pliny. 5. The disease with which the father of Publius was affected dysentry combined with fever, probably intermittent, might well suit a country woody and damp, and probably for want of draining exposed to the putrid effluvia of confined moisture ; but was not likely to affect a dry, rocky, and remarkably healthy island like Malta. Dr. Falconer, likewise, is of opinion that the Adria, mentioned in Acts xxvii. 27, can only mean the gulph 58 MELITA MALTA. of Venice, the admission of which would certainly exclude Malta ; but on the other hand, it has been clearly shewn, by Beza, Bochart, Grotius, Western, and others, from Ptolemy, Strabo, and other writers, that at the time in question, the Adriatic sea was used to comprehend the whole of the sea between Greece, Italy, and Africa ; so that it comprised the Ionian, Cretan, and Sicilian seas. That Malta is the island intended by St. Luke, in Acts xxvii., is to my mind sufficiently evident, from the following considerations. The Apostle left the island on which he was wrecked whatever it might have been in a ship of Alexandria, which had wintered there on her voyage to Italy ; and after touching at Syracuse and Rhegium, landed at Puteoli, thus sailing in a direct course. The Illyrican Melita, would be far out of the usual track from Alexandria to Italy ; and in sailing from it to Rhegium, Syracuse also would be out of the direct course. The fact, that the ship was tossed all night prior to the wreck, in the Adriatic sea, does not lessen the probability of its being afterwards driven upon Malta; because the name Adria was applied to the whole Ionian sea, which lay between Italy and Greece. The objection urged from the term "barbarous people" being applied by St. Luke, in Acts xxviii. 2, to the cultivated and distinguished inhabitants of Malta, is altogether without weight. They were, as I have already remarked, of Phoenician origin; and their ancient language was probably in use among them at that time, though intermixed with Greek and Latin terms and phrases. Such a language must have been almost unintelligible to the Romans and Greeks, although, on the expulsion of the Carthaginians by the Romans, it was in the possession of the latter at the time of the Apostle. With the Romans, as well as with other nations, it was customary to apply the epithet "barbarians" to those whose language they did not understand. St. Paul himself speaks in this way, in 1 Cor. xiv. 11 "If I know not the meaning of the voice, I shall be unto him that speaketh, a barbarian; and he that speaketh shall be a SYR A. 59 barbarian unto me." Thus Herodotus, also, Lib. ii. 158, says, fiapfiapovs Trai/ras AiiyvTrnoi KaKeovffi TOUS [irj a