cause the face of the earth is not so liable to change as that of society. This is judiciously remarked by d'Anville, in his excellent Dissertation on ancient Jerusalem.* "The local circumstances," says he

and such as are determined by Nature herself, have no share in the changes which time and the fury of man have made in Jerusalem." Accordingly d'Anville, with wonderfully sagacity, discovers in the modern eity, the whole plan of ancient Jerusalem.

The scene of the Passion, if we extend it from the Mount of Olives to Calvary, occupies no more than a league of ground; and in this little space, how many objects may be traced with the greatest ease! In the first place, there was a hill denominated the Mount of Olives, which overlooks the city and the Temple on the east; this hill is yet there, and has not changed. There was the brook Cedron, and this stream is the only one that passes near Jerusalem. There was an eminence at the gate of the ancient city, where criminals were put to death; this eminence is easily discoverable between Mount Sion and the gate of Judgment, of which some vestiges still exist. It is impossible to mistake Sion, because it is still the highest hill in the city. "We are assured," says the great geographer already quoted, "of the limits of the city in that part which Sion occupied. It is this part that advances farthest towards the south; and you are not only fixed in such a manner that you cannot comprehend a greater space on that side, but the utmost breadth to which the site of Jerusalem can possibly extend in this place, is determined on the one hand by the declivity of Sion, which faces the west, and on the other, by its opposite extremity towards Cedron."

This reasoning is excellent, and any one would suppose that it was suggested to d'Anville by an ocular examination of the place.

Golgotha then was a small eminence of Mount Sion, to the east of that mount, and to the west of the gate

For this Dissertation, see Appendix No. I.

of the city: this eminence, on which now stands the church of the Resurrection, is still perfectly distinguishable. We know that Christ was buried in the garden at the foot of Calvary: now this garden, and the house belonging to it, could not disappear at the foot of Golgotha, a hill, whose base is not so large that a building situated there could possibly be lost.

The Mount of Olives, and the brook Cedron, fix, in the next place, the valley of Jehoshaphat; and the latter determines the position of the Temple on Mount Moria. The Temple furnishes the site of the Triumphal Gate, and Herod's palace, which Josephusplaces to the east, in the lower part of the city, and near the Temple. The Prætorium of Pilate was nearly contiguous to Antonia's tower, the foundations of which are known. The tribunal of Pilate and Calvary being thus ascertained, the last scene of the Passion may safely be placed upon the road leading from the one to the other; especially as a fragment of the gate of Judgment is yet left to guide us. road is the Via dolorosa so celebrated in the accounts of all the pilgrims.

This

The scenes of the acts of Christ without the city are not marked with less certainty by the places themselves. The garden of Olivet, beyond the valley of Jehoshaphat and the brook Cedron, is manifestly at this day in the position assigned to it by the gospel.

I could add a multitude of facts, conjectures, and reflections to those which I have adduced; but it is time to conclude this introduction, already of too great length. Whoever will examine, with candour, the reasons advanced in this Memoir, must admit, that if any thing on earth has been demonstrated, it is the authenticity of the christian traditions concerning JeFusalem.

51

TRAVELS

IN

GREECE, PALESTINE, EGYPT, AND BARBARY.

FIRST PART.

GREECE.

To the principal motive which impelled me after so many peregrinations to leave France once more, were added other considerations.. A voyage to the East would complete the circle of studies which I had always promised myself to accomplish. In the deserts of America I had contemplated the monuments of Nature; among the monuments of man, I was as yet acquainted with only two species of antiquities, the Celtic and the Roman: I had yet to visit the ruins of Athens, of Memphis, and of Carthage. I was therefore solicitous to perform a pilgrimage to Jerusalem:

Qui devoto

Il grand sepolcro adora, e sciogle il voto.

At the present day it may appear somewhat strange to talk of vows and pilgrimages; but in regard to this subject I have no sense of shame, and have long ranged myself in the class of the weak and superstitious. Probably I shall be the last Frenchman that will ever quit his country to travel to the Holy Land, with the idea, the object, and the sentiments of an ancient pilgrim. But if I have not the virtues which shone of yore, in the Sires de Coucy, de Nesle, de Castillon, de Montfort, faith at least is left me; and by this mark I might yet be recognized by the ancient crusaders.

"And when I was about to depart and commence my journey," says the Sire de Joinville, "I sent for the abbè de Che.

minon to reconcile myself with him. And I girded myself with my scarf, and took my staff in my hand, and presently I set out from Joinville without ever entering the castle afterwards, till my return from the voyage beyond sea-And so as I went from Bleicourt to Saint Urban, when I was obliged to pass near the castle of Joinville, I durst not turn my face that way lest I should feel too great regret, and my heart should be too strongly affected."

On quitting my country again, the 13th July, 1806, I was not afraid to turn my head like the seneschal of Champagne; almost a stranger in my native land, I left behind me, neither castle nor cottage.

From Paris to Milan the route was not new to me; at Milan I took the road to Venice, all around the country appeared nearly like the Milanese, one dull but fertile morass; I gave a few moments to the mounments of Verona, Vicensa, and Padua. On the 23d, I arrived at Venice, and spent five days in examining the remains of its former grandeur. I was shown some good pictures by Tintoret, Paul Veronese, and his brother, Bassano,' and Titian; I sought in a deserted church the tomb of the latter, and had some difficulty to find it, as I had once before at Rome to discover the tomb of Tasso. After all, the ashes of a reli. gious and unfortunate poct are not very much out of their place in an hermittage. The bard of Jerusalem seems to have sought a last asylum in this obscure spot; to escape the persecutions of men; he fills the world with his fame, and himself reposes unknown, beneath the orange-tree of St Onuphrius.

I left Venice on the 28th, and at ten at night embarked for terra firma. We had a breeze from the south-east sufficient to fill the sail, but not to ruffle the sea. As the vessel proceeded, I beheld the lights of Venice sink into the horizon; and distinguished, like spots upon the surface of the deap, the shadows of the different islands scattered along the coast. These islands, instead of being covered with forts and bastions, are occupied by churches and monasteries; the sound of the clocks belonging to the hospitals and lazarets reached our ears, and excited no ideas but those of tranquility and succour, in the midst of the empire of storms and dangers. We approached so near to one of these retreats, as to perceive the monks watching