We had to go about armed; there were constant rumors of danger, but there was no actual annoyance of consequence. Some of our Egyptian servants, however, were most comically frightened, and gave up with the most amusingly unwilling generosity what ever the pettiest sheik might do them the honor to fancy. With Hamilton Mr. Buckle had by this time got rather intimate. Nothing could have been finer than the contrast between the two. the shittim-tree, at the northern foot of the pass, Mr. Buckle was particularly brilliant ; joke and anecdote followed each other fast; Palestine was not to him a "holy land." We were out of the desert; before us were the green rolling plains of Judea; over all, the splendor of an Eastern sun; in the flowers, in the birds, in the flocks and herds at the wells, we should see the fulness of young life; and soon, at Hebron, we should hear again the much-loved din of civilization. On Palm Sunday, as we approached Jerusalem, disputing about the summun bonum, which Mr. Buckle placed in the highest gratification of the intellect and senses consistent with the rights of others, we encountered a stream of bright-clothed peasants, with palmbranches, returning from the city. Through a crowd surrounding some dancers outside a coffee-shop, we passed under the archway of the Joppa Gate. When Mr. Buckle had not my arm, he had Hamilton's. To Hamilton, who had a considerable touch of humor, what appeared to him the cowardice and effeminacy of Mr. Buckle, were a source of unconcealed and inextinguishable laughter. But then Hamilton was in the vigorous health of five-and-twenty, which will face anything, and eat anything; he had as a good Catholic, exorcised the fiends of doubt, and thus saved himself the conquests of the thinker; but he had led forlorn hopes During the Holy Week, and throughout to the deadly breach in the Indian rebellion. our stay at Jerusalem, there was not much. Each contemned the other for his want of sympathy in Mr. Buckle. He lagged behind that on which he prided himself. But Mr. near the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, as we Buckle liked Hamilton-because he confessed were on our way by the Via Dolorosa and St. ignorance, and listened with deference, though Stephen's Gate to the Garden of Gethsemane, without conviction; and Hamilton liked Mr. and at length came up, apologizing for havBuckle because-in the dreadful shock he ing kept me waiting, but elated with having, described himself as having recently experi- in bargaining with a Jew about some glass enced on firing a pistol for the first time in bracelets, beat him down from twopence to his life; in his certainty of getting drowned three halfpence. Sitting on the Mount of or eaten by a shark if he ventured to bathe Olives, over against Jerusalem, the conversawith us in his terror of a dead snake; his tion, or rather talk, was on a point of politifear and hatred of the savages around us, and cal economy. At table in the inn, he launched his declaration that "vice is better than ig-what he called a thunderbolt among the revnorance"-he showed himself so laughably erend representatives of the apostles there different from Hamilton's self. Each was present, and caused them to rise and flee sudthus to the other an unconscious flattery. denly. 66 But as to all this, it must be remarked that there was a certain humor in such confessions of fear and weakness, and still more undoubtedly great kindliness of nature in speaking of one who not only undisguisedly laughed at his weaknesses, but often frightened him with snakes and otherwise, as My noble little Hamilton." And in the great scheme of travel all round the world which Mr. Buckle had in view, there was no one, he said, whom he should have liked better as a travelling companion than this very Hamilton, if he had had but some scientific education. We left Petra on the 7th of April, and on the 10th crossed the great mountain pass between Arabia and Palestine. At lunch under As it is of Mr. Buckle in the East, I am writing, the solemn and affecting scenes of the Holy Week at Jerusalem are best passed over in silence. He saw in them nothing divine under what might be worthy of mockery. He did not even care to go to the celebration of Good Friday at the Church of the Holy Sepulchre. But in the sacristy the next day, while we were waiting to be admitted into a gallery from whence to witness the wild scene of the distribution of the fire from heaven, he admitted that for the truly great historian the sympathetic insight of the poet was requisite, as well as the analytic power of the philosopher. But, however generously he might feel for the sufferers by fanaticism, he did not even pretend to that higher power | needed no such vent. Whenever we were through which the divine impelling idea is seen through all the ignorance with which it may be clothed, and fanaticism with which it may be darkened, that sympathetic insight, which would clear the great historian of all one-sided bitterness, and give to the conflicts of mankind an aspect at once humorous and tragical. From Jerusalem Mr. Buckle wrote: "I must tell you that I am stronger both in mind and body than I have ever been since you knew me, and I feel fit to go on at once with my work. But I neither read nor write -1 think, I see, and I talk. Especially I study the state of society, and the habits of the people. We shall stay here to the end of this week, and then go to Jericho, the Jordan, Dead Sea, and Bethlehem, and thence northward for Nazareth, the Sea of Galilee, Damascus, and Baalbec, etc. I feel boyish enough for anything, and fancy myself growing younger; yet I am old, very old forty on the 24th of last November. It's a great age." On Monday, the 22d of April, we rode out of Jerusalem to Bethlehem, on the summit of its curving terraced hill, amid the hills of the shepherds, and looking towards the far-distant ridgy mountains of Moab. We slept that night at the famously picturesque Greek Convent of Marsaba. Thence, next day, over the hill and down to the Dead Sea; at full gallop across to the Rapids of the Jordan, where all but Mr. Buckle bathe to wash off the Dead Sea salt; thence a splendid ride across the plain of Jericho, winding at length through shrubberies and cornfields, in the purpling sunset, past the Crusaders' Tower to the mounds, where, above the ruins, our tents were pitched; and next day, by Bethany, back to Jerusalem; thence, on the morrow, we began, through bleak, stony hills, our journey northward. riding along more quietly together side by side, or in Indian file, in the narrow, rocky paths, or dismounted, walking arm in arm, constant bright and suggestive talk. I am endeavoring carefully, but with difficulty, to avoid entering on the subjects of our conversations, the results of our disputations; it would lead me, for the present, at least, too far. But, as a fact, rather than an opinion, I may note that on riding out of Shechem (Nablous), where we had seen a good deal of the last of the Samaritans, and been fortunate in obtaining some of their MSS., our first remarks to each other were on the remarkable handsomeness of these men. We had been at the synagogue that morning. There were the heads of the seventy families. Every man of them was full six feet or upwards, erect, and well proportioned; with very fine, though, of course, Jewish features; beautifully clear, fair complexions, and dark, lustrous eyes. But," said I, "these families are all close cousins, and intermarry but with each other." We had no gallop for a long time that morning; for the physiological laws of breeding in-and-in, the influence of race, the worth of phrenological indications, and related subjects, occupied us, and gave our horses rest. The vast plain of Esdraelon, famous battlefield, and Armageddon, they say, of prophecy, I shall ever associate with the melancholy end of all Mr. Buckle's grand schemes. It was Sunday, the 27th of April. More exultingly than ever he expressed his feelings of health and hope. The conversation was on liberty; on the influence the new ideas had already had, and would still further have, in moulding law, national and international; on toleration, and on progress. But that day he was attacked with diarrhoea, the proximate cause of his death; and the cause of the diarrhoea was, doubtless, chiefly overfatigue and over-excitement. In Palestine our dromedaries were exchanged for horses, and baggage-camels for mules; and Mr. Buckle gave up his Cairene In the afternoon, up the hills of Galilee, donkey to mount a Syrian Arab. He had and down into the glen of Nazareth. Passnot been on horseback for twenty years; yet ing through the town, we encamped under the excitement of the scenes through which the trees, by Mary's Well. That night there we passed, and their rushing historical associations made a tearing gallop on every tolerably level stretch irresistible. And many were the rows we consequently had with our master of the horse and escort, whose feelings was a thunder-storm; the rain soaked through the tents, notwithstanding their water-proof covering. Mr. Buckle caught cold, and a very bad sore throat imprisoned him in the convent for more than a week. I was thus very much alone at Nazareth; in the convent | the morrow, surmounting the White Cape, we descended into Phoenicia; on the left, the sea; on the right, the hill villages of the Metawileh; high over these, in the far distance, White Lebanon. most of the day, in case of Mr. Buckle's requiring anything for he was too ill to make himself distinctly understood by the servants -and with a morning and afternoon walk. But though there was little sight-seeing, time was not perhaps lost in that little upland glen, like a compact Highland property. The recollection of the famously beautiful music in the church to the convent reminds me to note that Mr. Buckle cared nothing for music; and this may be found in harmony with his other characteristics. As the boys and I were rushing at full gallop along the sands, close by the sea, we passed an English party riding from the direction of Tyre. Turning round, I saw Mr. Buckle, who was a little behind, speaking to one of the party. I rode back, and found he was a gentleman with whom I also was acquainted, and that we had just passed the Prince of Wales. Riding on, I turned round again, and behold Hassan, trying to overtake us, somehow unseated, slide suddenly over his horse's tail, falling on the sands. The horse, much relieved, turned round and neighed at his prostrate master And it was a fine thing to smile at among the various, unseated, and other royalties of the scene. Next week, thanks to, or notwithstanding, an Armenian physician and a Spanish doctormonk, Mr. Buckle was sufficiently recovered to continue the journey to the Sea of Galilee. There he chiefly interested himself with the Jews of Tiberias, that ancient seat of Hebrew learning; not so much with the land of Genesareth and the Mount of Beatitudes; and I need not, therefore, here, of these Holy Places We rode on, and entered the famous city. say anything. Thence we returned to Naza-We could not but be struck with the absence reth, encamping by the Fountain of the Virgin once more. Sitting at the door of the tent after dinner, with our coffee and chibouks, he capped a remark I made on the extremely pretty, erect, graceful, and picturesquely attired Marys passing us, with their pitchers, to and from the fountain, by quoting with characteristic aptitude Molière's "Fi, fi! n'as-tu pas honte d'être si belle?" of that "desolation" we had heard preached about. Tyre is, in fact, a thriving town, with some sixty vessels usually in port. We lunched in a garden on the Mole of Alexander. Returning to complete our examination of the ruins, we found the prince had not only re-embarked, but that the squadron was already in the offing; and we remarked the rapid progress on the royal road to learn Over the circling hills of Nazareth; pasting. a gathering-place of the Crusaders; and the ruins of a Roman capital; along a rich plain, its distance magnificent with mirage; through parklike, wooded hills; and down at length into the grand plain of Acre, covered with flocks and herds, or rich with crops. Riding into the town, we were conducted through the fortifications by the consul, and told the story of British victory. Would it were completer! We looked down into dark dungeons under our feet, where were two hundred wretches, chained two by two, hand and foot, and begging, like dogs, for something to be thrown them. "Les misérables!" Next day, striking our tents on the glacis, we rode on over the magnificent plain, through the wealthiest crops, and most odorous orange groves, climbed the Scala Tyriorum, and looked down on the gleaming Bay of Acre and the Phoenician Landstrip, with Tyre in the distance. In the afternoon we encamped at Alexander's Fountain, by the Sea. On Next day we got into lodgings at Sidon; but the day after removed to the convent, for Mr. Buckle again found himself over-fatigued and ill; and, indeed, the state of his health made it necessary for us to give up, though with much regret, the proposed journey from Sidon to Damascus, and proceed direct to Beyrout. So, after three days' stay, we bade adieu to the courteous French consul and Padre Germano, and left Sidon between its beautiful gardens and the sea. For one day, along sand and across promontories; the next morning, over sandy downs, through olive and pine forests, orchards, and mulberry gardens; above, the snowy peaks of peopled Lebanon; below, the burning sands by the sea, till we entered Beyrout. From Beyrout, 14th May, is dated Mr. Buckle's last letter: "We have arrived here to-day all well, after a journey from Jerusalem, interesting beyond all description. We diverged westward, after visiting the Sea of Galilee, in order to travel through Phoenicia. | carriage and five (one of the animals a mule), We saw Tyre and Sidon, and got much val- on the French road. Thus ascending the steep uable information respecting the excavations terrace-cultivated Lebanon, looking down conducted there for the last eighteen months on the cloud-shadowed splendor of the sea, by the French Government. .. To-mor- Mr. Buckle, much recruited by the couple row we shall see the Assyrian remains near of day's rest at Beyrout, was once more himhere; and the next day start for Damascus, self again. He talked of the views by which Baalbec, and return to Beyrout by the Cedars he had united the "Wealth of Nations" of Lebanon, the oldest and grandest trees in and the "Theory of Moral Sentiments;" the world. of the effect of the gold discoveries on prices, "I have most reluctantly abandoned Con- and of the ultimate cause of the interest of stantinople because-although we should be money. It was our last conversation of any there and up the Danube long before the un- importance. We encamped that evening on healthy season I am advised that the nights the green base of Lebanon, overlooking Coleon the river are occasionally damp and dan- syria. Next day we had to mount our horses gerous for weak eyes. And as I cannot quite again to ride across the red and green plain, satisfy myself about the protection which and up Antilebanon. Mr. Buckle came into berths afford, I don't choose to risk my little camp that night, again over-fatigued and Eddy boy to having inflamed conjunctiva, for ill. Late on the evening of the next day we he has now had nothing in the least the mat- entered Damascus, but Mr. Buckle was alter with his eyes for more than five months; most dead with fatigue; yet we had rested and I intend to bring him back sound and in- for three hours during the overpowering heat vigorated in all respects. The only other of midday in an Arab hostelry at Dimas. route to Vienna is by Trieste. We must Crossing the Sah'ra desert in the blinding therefore take the steamer from here to Smyr-glare, he had dismounted to walk, leaning na, Syria, and Athens; but shall see little heavily on my arm, and again, after descendor nothing of Greece, as the weather will be too hot. The journey is not very interesting, but we have had our fill of interest, and must think of health. ing into an exquisitely rich many-watered glen, fording its streams, and ascending through over-hanging trees, we rested at the roadside Café of the Fountain. It was quite "I expect to be at Trieste about the mid-open, and simple enough, but there was a dle of June; and as you said that the end of July would suit you to reach Vienna, this leaves me a clear month, which I purpose epending at Gratz or Grätz, in Styria, on the railroad between Trieste and Vienna. It is very healthy, has fine air, and is well known for masters and education." Such, but a fortnight before his death, was Mr. Buckle's last letter. At Beyrout the contract with our dragoman, who had latterly behaved exceedingly ill, terminated; and Mr. Buckle and I parted company; for he was uncertain whether he should be able to proceed, as he desired, from Damascus to Baalbec, and was unwilling to stand in the way of my visiting these renowned ruins. My dragoman's agreement mutually bound us to return from Baalbec and the Cedars. By Mr. Buckle's agreement he might return direct from Damascus. The former, as with certainty requiring a longer time, was of course at a lower rate. We however proceeded to Damascus together, starting on the 16th of May, in a hospitable shade, and a place to spread our carpets to lie down. Past him-lying there, worn with fatigue, and soothing over-excited nerves with the grateful fumes of a chibouk rode a numerous Turkish hunting party; and as one after one the long cavalcade reined their horses at the fountain under the trees, you could look from a mind-worn body to wiry vigor and glowing health. To the road again, and down to the green rushing Pharpar (Barada). As I was riding on a little in advance, by this winding, deepchannelled stream-here like a very torrent of life—I heard a cry behind me, and looking round, saw Mr. Buckle in an agony of fear clinging to the neck of his horse. A stirrup had suddenly given way, and he had been almost thrown. The effect of this on nerves so overworn by excitement as his now were can easily be imagined. He was now quite beyond concealing fear; and as I assisted him from his horse he said "a sweat of terror had burst over him." He lay down by the rushing Pharpar, and I gave him some water from it to drink. It was very sad to see so bold a mind with a body which had so miserably fallen away from it. It was like the torrent by which he lay, losing itself, all stagnant, on a dead level. On again; and when we left the river we were again on the desert uplands of Antilebanon. Slow was our progress, for Mr. Buckle could now only just support himself in the saddle. At length, riding wearily along, we entered a narrow, winding, rocky defile. Suddenly, at the mouth of the gorge, burst on us a wondrous scene. Below us, at the foot of the barren mountains, stretched far as the eye in the clear eastern air could see, a vast desert; but in its centre was a long strip, wide towards the north, tapering southwards, of the most gloriously rich vegetation; amid the trees and gardens countless domes and minarets, and a wide and beautiful meadow also, the famous Merj, in the midst of which gleamed a winding stream. Gazing on this, the most magnificent oasis of the East, Mr. Buckle forgot all his fatigue, and exclaimed, "It is worth all it has cost me to reach it!" And there was to be his grave. One can seldom at the time truly say what is the cause of the pleasure or pain when one is very much affected. So, then, neither of us could analyze the sources of the pleasure we enjoyed. Not till a considerable time after, when standing with Mr. Buckle's great master near the base of the Asian Olympus, overlooking the Plain of Broussa, did I understand why the view of the Plain of Damascus had so much affected us. For, gazing from the ancient Turkish capital on a wide mountain-circled plain of unsurpassed wealth and beauty, green and golden all with trees and corn, sparkling with volcanic springs and winding streams. I saw that similar causes had affected Mr. Buckle when he looked on the Paradise of the Desert, and when, at the Temple of Karnak, under the moon of Egypt, "the vast masses of light and shade rendered it absolutely appalling." In both cases the effect was in the contrast. The Plain of Broussa has no such contrast, and the impression of its beauty is less. of evening. Never, it seemed to Mr. Buckle, should we reach the gates. At length our horses' feet clattered on a stone pavement, and at length we entered the gates of Damascus. But the reality afforded no such fresh excitement to support Mr. Buckle as the distant view. Night had fallen; the streets were dark, narrow, winding, ill paved, infested with surly dogs, and absolutely interminable. Sinking with fatigue, Mr. Buckle had to dismount and walk, supported by my arm. Interminable, dark, winding streets, without interest-for the Oriental scenes revealed by the occasional lights were in general but an irritating contrast of unbought repose. At last we came to a little door in the side of a dark and little-promising house. We might have been inclined to object to being taken to such an inn as this. But now, anywhere for rest and food. So we descended some steps into a small and dark court; crossing it, we were led along a dark, winding, narrow passage, and then a scene burst upon us, the very realization of a dream of the East. It was a great quadrangle, paved with colored marbles; in the midst of it, sparkling waters, overhung by orange and other odoriferous trees; above, the fair blue heavens, and the golden stars; at the further end, a deep and lofty-vaulted alcove, bright with rich colors; a luxurious divan round its three sides; on its raised floor a long table covered with viands, and on the tables, lamps that shone on the faces of friends we had seen last in the shadow of Mount Sinai. The scene had a fitly magical effect on Mr. Buckle, and after having been conducted up an open staircase to one of the lower roofs, and thence to an open gallery into which opened the large and beautiful rooms reserved for us, and there having washed and dressed, he descended to dinner in the alcove, and was able to converse with our friends. How exquisite the chibouk on the divan after dinner, in such a scene, after such a day! Next day, Monday, Mr. Buckle had so surprisingly recovered from his fatigue as to sally forth immediately after breakfast to wander through the famous bazaars. But in But on again; and, it was now so late, the evening at dinner he was unable to sit in considerable anxiety lest we should find at table, where a party of Austrian nobles the gates of the city closed. So we descended had taken the place of our friends, who had the barren mountain side, and rode across left that morning. On the divan behind he what of the desert separated us from roads was having brought to him what food he could under overarching trees, dank with the dews eat. Suddenly I heard a cry from him, and: |