scenery, the most that we can do is to select and depict such features as are of commanding interest. We shall freely and gratefully avail ourselves of the services of those who, at great cost, and much personal danger and privation, have preceded us, and left their guiding footprints in the rugged pathway. We at least, in our easy perigrinations, need incur no risk from the hostility of the Arabs, the malaria of the sea, or the breakneck insecurity of mountain passes. We shall enjoy all the excitement of the adventure without sharing any of its alarms and losses. The course which we propose to pursue in our imaginary trip is as follows:-Commencing at the northern point of the sea, we will pass along the western shores, in the direction indicated by a line on the accompanying map, till we reach the opposite extremity, when sweeping across the plain at the south, and continuing our travels over the eastern shores and hills, we complete the circuit by arriving near the point from which we started. If the reader will keep the map before him while the panorama of Dead Sea scenery is passing before his eyes, it will aid materially in fixing in the memory a clearer impression of particular localities.

Supposing our party, then, duly mustered and equipped, we issue, on a beautiful morning in the middle of January, from the eastern gate of Jerusalem, and, passing through scenes of sacred interest, press onwards to the banks of the Jordan opposite Jericho. From the character and wealth of the vegetation in the region hereabouts we infer that the climate of the valley of the Jordan is decidedly tropical, bearing a great resemblance to that of India. Quitting this charming part of the river, we enter upon a muddy plain, destitute of vegetation, and presenting the very image of desolation. Across this plain the ordinary road pursued by pilgrims winds. Let us take heed how we tread, as it was somewhere here that the horse rode by De Saulcy, in 1851, sunk up to its nostrils in the miry soil, from which he and his charger were with difficulty extricated. As we approach the northern shore of the lake, we find branches and trunks of trees scattered about in all directions at highwater mark, some looking black as if charred by fire, while others are white and sparkling with saline incrustations.

At last, after a toilsome march over this unpicturesque and arid waste, we arrive at the nothern edge of the sea, which we approach within about fifty yards. At a short distance from the shore is a small islet, covered with the remains of very ancient buildings, and thought to have been coeval with the

catastrophe which destroyed the Pentapolis, and which, it is not at all improbable, have given rise to the idle tradition that the ruins of Sodom have been seen under the sea. remains are called Redjom-Looth, or Lot's mass of Stones.

These

Continuing our course between meagre and blighted shrubs, over a light soil covered with pebbles, and dead carbonized bushes that snap at a touch, we presently behold the Canaanite mountains gradually approaching nearer to the beach, so as almost to bar our progress. Pressing on, however, close to the sea-margin, we soon fall in with some remarkable ruins, covering a considerable extent of ground, and presenting the appearance of great antiquity. As Ayn-el-Fechkhah (the Fountain of the Stride) is in this neighbourhood, let us turn aside for a brief space, and refresh ourselves with its welcome waters. Gladdened by the sight of the bubbling spring, and the copious stream that flows seawards from it, we rush towards the spot with an eagerness which only oriental travellers can fully understand; but, alas! for our panting animals and our thirsty selves-we find that the water, so beautiful to the eye, is bitter and hot to the palate, and evidently impregnated with sulphuretted hydrogen. After slaying an immense lizard, and attempting in vain to beat off a greedy army of mosquitoes, we leave part of our escort with the beasts and the luggage,

and sally forth to inspect the ruins just noticed. An extended examination satisfies us of their importance and vastness. Not only do they lie scattered over an immense track, parallel with the beach, but extend far inland through a valley-the OuadGoumran. This name, Goumran, suggests the probability of these vast ruins being the remains of GOMORRAH-a site that has never before been identified. Indeed, until the beginning of 1851, the ruins do not seem to have been visited by any modern traveller. De Saulcy was, we believe, the first to direct attention to them.* Let us try and give an idea of their character and extent.

The first mass of ruins that attract our attention by their singular appearance consist of enormous blocks of unhewn stone, forming the foundation of cyclopean walls, at least a yard in thickness. The outlines of several distinct pavilions or dwelling-rooms can be distinctly made out. These habitations were evidently attached to vast inclosures, the use of which will, perhaps, never be determined. Whether they were used for sacred purposes, or whether they were mere parks, in which cattle could be collected at night, M. de Sauley confesses himself incompetent to decide. In favour of the former hypothesis, he remarks that in a building, most probably appropriated to religious uses, discovered by him amid the ruins of Hazor, as well as in the temple of Gerizim, he found pavilions similar in every respect to these, and disposed in exactly the same manner. Advancing still further along the coast, we cross a wide boundary ditch, evidently constructed by human labour, and beyond which, ruins again appear, in an abundance that would seem to indicate the skeleton remains of a great city, of which the vestiges before referred to probably formed a suburb. All the remains in this locality betray a strange and barbarous style of construction, characteristic of a very remote period, and cover an extent of about four miles. In no writer, ancient or modern, is there any reference to a city having stood on this spot; from which, and other circumstances, M. de Sauley affirms his strong conviction that this is the true site of Gomorrah. The elements necessary for such an overthrow are evidently all around us, and as we pass along we perceive the faces of the moutains on our left are here and there hollowed out into a kind of circus, in which extinct craters are visible, while huge mounds of sand below may easily be taken for volcanic ashes.

* Journey round the Dead Sea, and in the Bible Lands, vol. 2.

Still onwards-over ground covered with fragments of flint, the view of the sea partly obstructed by cane brakes, from which we now and then start partridges and other birds. - We also pass from time to time huge stones, planted in the form of the segment of a circle, and which are regarded with religious veneration by our Bedouins. They are a counterpart to the Druidical cromlechs of the western nations. Several of our curiosity-hunters pick up now and then pieces of bituminous stone which burn like cannel coal, and are manufactured into cups, rosaries, and other articles, for sale to pilgrims. Some of the rocks on our left are veined with this combustible material. One of our party, more adventurous than the rest, climbs a neighbouring height for the purpose of surveying the strange scene around us; and he reports to us on his return that such is the marvellous number and wavy appearance of the insulated hillocks, rising in all directions, that it seemed as if he were standing in the midst of a stormy sea suddenly turned into stone.

The next object of interest to us, from its hallowed associations, is the Ravine of Fire (Wady-en-Nar), through which the waters of the sacred Kedron empty themselves into the Dead Sea. Often have we, in imagination, crossed that bridge which spanned its bed, and led to Bethany and to Gethsemane; and we now see the spot where it terminates, and lays its murmurings to rest for ever in the molten flood surging so heavily at our feet. This ravine is a deep gorge, towering at least 1200 feet above our heads. But as our long journey has yet barely commenced, we must not be tempted to linger here. Turning our faces southwards, then, we again pursue our way, over light fine sand, in which we sink at every step. The surface of the sand is efflorescent, from the salt with which it is saturated, while multitudes of black-looking trees, the collection of centuries, are half buried in the soil. The greater part of this floated forest has probably been contributed by the wood-fringed Jordan, during the annual rainy season. A little further on, the shore disappears under a tangled cover of gigantic reeds, reaching to within a few yards of the cliffs. Their presence is owing to a magnificent fountain of sweet warm water, peopled with myriads of shells. Several beautiful kingfishers are fluttering over the rivulet, which is known as the Brook of the Little Morass.

Shortly after quitting this agreeable oasis, we are told by our guides that the further passage of the beach is impracticable

and that we must climb the hills to reach Engedi. This disconcerts us not a little. However, remembering that De Sauley and his followers were compelled to do the same, and hoping to enjoy a glorious prospect from the Judean heights, we submit to the necessity, and begin the perilous ascent. The road is execrable, and is strewed with the bleaching bones of camels and of men. Part of the route is called, appropriately enough, "Break-neck Valley," which the army of Ibrahim Pasha once passed with considerable loss. The poor animals rebel, and shake with terror at the fearful abysses which yawn at their feet; the Bedouins, however, scramble along like monkeys; and, happily, we all, after an extraordinary succession of escapes, reach the mountain path, and press on to Engedi, awed by the spectacles of sterile grandeur that everywhere salute our gaze.

At length, without any disaster, we reach the identical spot from whence Dr. Robinson caught his first view of the sea, reposing at least 1500 feet below. The prospect embraces the whole southern half, including Usdum, and part of the northern half. Directly opposite to us is the mouth of Wady Kerak, at the head of which, Kerak, with its castle, is visible on a high precipitous rock. The waters, viewed from this eminence, have a decidedly green hue, as if stagnant, while the shore is edged with froth, caused by saline deposits. It was not far from this