The sun had set and the short twilight of this eastern land had given place to the gloom of night when we knocked at the convent gate of Ma'lûla. On the very same day and about the same hour, we knocked here twelve months ago. On the 19th of October, 1852, Mr. Barnett and I visited this place in company with Mr. Robson; and now, on the 19th of October, 1853, we find ourselves here again, admitted by the same deacon, and welcomed by the same jolly old friar. The same servant who then accompanied us, was with us now, and none is wanting to complete the old party, save Mr. Robson. He, however, was separated from us by broad seas, and broader lands; having returned on a visit to his native country.

Thursday, Oct. 20th. The road from Ma'lûla to Damascus, by way of Saidanâya, I had before travelled. That by way of Kuteifeh and Adhr'a I had also passed over; and I now determined to take a road between these two; crossing first the plain of 'Ain et-Tineh, and then skirting the southern extremity of the mountain range that divides this plain from that of Jerûd, pass over the Menin range into the Sahra.

Descending from the convent, we entered the gorge on the north side. This sublime pass I had formerly seen from the mountain summit; but I now found the estimate I had formed of its grandeur was far short of the reality. At first, the walls of rock on each side are low, but they soon increase in altitude until they attain an elevation of some 200 feet. The space between the cliffs is in many places not more than three, and seldom exceeds seven feet. The sides are jagged and irregular, the one being an exact impression of the other; thus showing that in former times the mountain was, by some wondrous power, rent to its foundations, and in this way opened up. About the centre of the pass, a huge mass of rock has become detached from the cliff overhead, and has fallen to near the bottom; but ere it reached it, it became wedged, and thus it now hangs threateningly overhead as one passes underneath. A descent of a few feet more would have entirely blocked up the passage. While winding through the narrow defile, I could scarce refrain from shuddering, on looking upward at the gradually narrowing opening, with its projecting angles, and apparently tottering summits. Towards the lower part the gap expands; but enormous masses of rock have fallen down, and almost fill up the cavity. On emerging, a scene of considerable beauty and gran

deur suddenly opens in front. Close on the left is the picturesque convent of St. Thecla, built almost wholly within a large natural cave or fissure in the precipice. On the right is the village; its houses perched on the steep slope at the foot of the high ledge on which the upper convent stands; while beyond rises a cliff loftier and more rugged still, whose sides, as well as those of all the others around, are actually honey-combed with ancient sepulchral caves. In the centre is a sweet vale, clothed with the dark green foliage of the walnut and mulberry; among which broken columns and crumbling ruins may be here and there seen. A tradition exists, that this place was called Laodicea in ancient times; and the superior informed us, that the upper convent was 1987 years old! On being asked if there had been a convent here before the days of our Saviour, "Of course," was his learned reply.

We left the village at 9 o'clock, and rode down the vale through beautiful fields and orchards. Passing a grove of very ancient pistachio trees, we reached the village of 'Ain et-Tîneh at 9.32; our course having been S. 23 E. This vale continues in the same direction to the pass in the mountain range, through which the Aleppo road runs to the plain of Kuteifeh. The inhabitants of 'Ain et-Tineh are now all Muslims; more than half of those in Ma'lûla are Muslims also; and the whole population of the little village of Bukha. Yet they all speak Syriac, and their forefathers were, some two centuries ago, members of the ancient Syrian church; and, though they have embraced the faith of Islam, yet the peculiar family names are preserved, and their marriage customs are the same as those of the communities of Hums and Sŭdūd.

On leaving the village we turned to the right and followed a straight course across the plain, S. 10 W. There is here much more cultivated land than I had formerly thought. At 10.28 we reached a strip of fine land running along the base of the mountain range. Turning to the right we rode down the little plain in a straight line without any path, S. 75 W., till at 10.50 we reached a valley between a little group of hills in the plain, and the southern extremity of the mountain range on the left. Here resuming our former course, we passed the end of the mountains, among orchards of fig-trees. The great plain of Jerûd now opened up before us on the left; and that village itself, with its extensive salt marsh, was clearly seen glittering in the sun.

The gardens of Ruhaibeh and Mu'addamiyeh were also visible; and somewhat nearer, the lofty minaret of the Khân at Kuteifeh. At 11.5 we reached a small village called Hileh, of which I had never before heard. It is built in a shallow Wady in the midst of an undulating plain. From it I took the following bearings: summit of Tinîyeh, S. 22 E.; top of Jebel Shurabîn, N. 87 W.

After a delay of five minutes, we continued in the same course over a rising ground, and entered in ten minutes a fertile plain of considerable extent. Turning now to the right, S. 70 W., we followed a straight road over the plain, and then passing some low chalky hills we reached Hafìr at 12.20. This village is situated on the southern slope of a beautiful and well-watered vale. The dark green foliage of the orchards that line the valley, forms a pleasing contrast to the dazzling whiteness of the swelling hills around. The water runs in a deep Wady towards the rocky ridge on the east; but I could see no opening for it into the Sahra. From hence we rode in a course about S. 35 W., crossing diagonally a little valley that runs up the centre of the Menîn range from the parallel of Bedda to the plain at Hileh. It is well cultivated, and extensive vineyards cover its sides. At one o'clock we reached the brow of the Menin range, overlooking the plain of Sahra. From this point we saw Saidanâya away on our right, N. 75 W.; while before us the eastern portion of the Sahra was spread out like a map. On the left, beyond it, rose the steep and naked sides of Jebel Tiniyeh. Descending the slope diagonally, we reached in forty minutes the little village of Hafeiyer. Beside it is a fine fountain, the stream from which runs down a narrow valley, to the low line of hills; these it passes by a deep gorge, and enters the plain of Damascus. It was from this stream, I believe, that the ancient aqueduct, which is now seen along the southern side of these hills, in former times derived its supply of water.

Resuming our journey at 1.48, we rode along a fine road with cultivated and tolerably fertile ground on each side. Our course was, as before, S. 25 W.; but in twenty minutes we began to turn gradually to the left, along the side of the little Wady that descends from Ma'rûneh. Following its course, we passed through a ridge of hills, and entered a valley that runs up the centre of this lowest range to the foot of Tinîyeh. Crossing this we entered a deep and wild ravine, the sides of which rise up steep and rocky on the right and left; and, after some fifteen minutes

winding, emerged once more on the plain of Damascus.

The

old aqueduct is, at this point, nearly perfect. It is carried across the opening of this Wady on an embankment of hewn stones; two fine arches spanning the central part.

We now turned our horses' heads to the city. In fifteen minutes we passed the fine fountain of Kusair. Our way now led through extensive vineyards to the large village of Dûma, which we reached at 3.50. We soon after struck the Aleppo road, and entered the gates of Damascus at six o'clock.

This, I fear, is the last journey I may be privileged to make for a long season. Since my return I have been almost a prisoner in my house. When I venture abroad, I am assailed with insult and threats by the fanatical Muslims. The aggressions of Russia have roused their ancient spirit of tyranny; and it will be well if they do not wreak their vengeance on the unoffending Christians in this city. We consider it as no small grievance, that, while English fleets are contributing to support the Sultan on his tottering throne, English subjects should be exposed to the grossest abuse in the streets of one of his principal cities. Damascus, December 24th, 1853.

ARTICLE II.

OUR SAVIOUR'S DISCOURSE IN THE SYnagogue at caperNAUM.

By E. P. Barrows, Professor at Andover.

Or the remarkable discourse addressed by our Lord to the Jews in the synagogue at Capernaum (John 6: 25-65), in which he exhibits himself in his personality as "the living bread which came down from heaven," and teaches that eternal life is to be received only by eating his flesh and drinking his blood, the words of the Apostle to the Corinthians: "The natural man receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God; for they are foolishness unto him; neither can he know them, because they are

spiritually discerned,"1 hold good in a preeminent sense. In their interpretation, everything depends on a true apprehension of Christ's person and office, and the relation which believers hold to him. If any man be right here, his eye is single, and, as he reads, his whole body will be full of light. But if he have a wrong view of Christ's character and the work of redemption committed to him by the Father, his eye is evil, and his whole body will be full of darkness. Mere learning and genius will avail but little for the apprehension of a passage that has to do throughout with the inward spiritual relation that subsists between the Redeemer and his disciples. The first and main question must be: Who is Christ, and what is his office? It will not be inappropriate, therefore, in attempting an exposition of the passage under consideration, to discuss this question somewhat at large. We, accordingly, divide the present Article into two parts: the discussion of the ground-idea that underlies the whole passage, which can be no other than the ground-idea of Christ's person and office; and the exposition of the passage itself.

I. OUR LORD'S PERSON AND OFFICE IN THEIR RELATION TO THE BELIEVER.

"Whom do men say that I, the Son of man, am?" This is the question which Jesus proposed to his disciples in the region of Caesarea Philippi. The answer to it was then, and will ever remain, the great problem of Christianity. On this occasion the disciples replied: "Some say that thou art John the Baptist; some Elias; and others, Jeremias, or one of the prophets." Again the Lord asked: "But whom say ye that I am? And Simon Peter answered and said, Thou art the Christ, the Son of the living God." Our Lord's reply to this confession of Peter: "Blessed art thou, Simon, Bar-jona; for flesh and blood hath not revealed it unto thee, but my Father which is in heaven," is full of weighty instruction. It teaches us that our blessedness depends on a correct apprehension of his person and office, and that for this apprehension we need a heavenly illumination, such as no mere human instruction can give. It will be noticed that the apostles, in enumerating the various opinions

1 1 Cor. 2: 14. Matt. 16: 15, 16.

2 Matt. 16: 13,

5 Matt. 16: 17.

* Matt. 16: 14.