Memorial of Egypt, the Red Sea, the Wildernesses of Sin and Paran, Mount Sinai, Jerusalem and other principal localities of the Holy Land, visited in 1842

Front matter

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THEOLOGICAL

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Preface

IT 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 Memo¬ rial 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 over¬ sight of a large manufacturing population.

They who know me, and respect my motive in pub¬ lishing, will look indulgently upon all the defectiveness in execution which they cannot fail to notice, and of which none can be more sensible than myself. I say not this to forestall criticism, but only to bespeak kindli¬ ness towards an effort for the gratification and instruc¬ tion of others, in which, circumstanced as I am, I have done what I could.

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 — Biae — 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 Alexan¬ dria — 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 trav¬ els. 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 pil¬ grimage, 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 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

MOTIVES, ETC.

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 com¬ paratively retired occupations of a Christian pastor. Diffi¬ culties I knew were to be met, and dangers, perhaps, to be encountered, from the very nature of the countries and cli¬ mates 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 impres¬ sions 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 the)'', 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 pres¬ ence of the objects to which they may refer. Mere 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 control ; they bear, in general, but little trace of their whereabout ; they are

MOTIVES, ETC. - FRANCE.

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 incon¬ stant 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 en¬ during 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, hut 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 por¬ traiture of events, persons and places, as shall bring them before the minds of others with startling vividness and reali¬ ty ; 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 en¬ quiring and rightly discerning spirit. And I am not without hope that such will read these pages with interest.

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 na¬ tional 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.

BOULOGNE — ROMISH TEE ACHING.

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 with¬ in 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 spirit¬ ual 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 prop-el 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 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 cafe, 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

ROMISH PREACHING.

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 declaim' ing, but on matters which were deposited in his mind with all the sanctity of eternal truth about them : and one remark¬ able 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 peo¬ ple 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 peo¬ ple, and others on whom their national influence may be exercised.

I cannot forbear to record here a circumstance which af¬ fected my mind very sensibly. On the evening of my arri¬ val 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 lxvi. 13 — “ As one. whom his mother coviforteth , so will I comfort you ; and ye shall he comforted in Jerusalem I am not wont to use holy Scripture superstitiously, nor do I think it could justly be deemed super¬ stitious, 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

CAVIGLIA.

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 frank¬ ness and urbanity. The history of this man is very remark¬ able 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 laboring in occult sciences and pushing his enquiries, as he now believes, through the personal agen¬ cy of the evil one, to their extreme point, God was pleased to .and 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 disen¬ gaged 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 to rejoice, as every man would, who, like him, has found his religion in the Bi¬ ble, apart from the traditions of men. I shall not easily for¬ get him. There sat the enlightened, the distinguished, the Christian Caviglia, in his poor rude attic, without fire, with¬ out 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

FRENCH DILIGENCE.

lo

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 touch¬ ing 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 some¬ times 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 ex¬ perienced an instance of merciful protection not to be forgot¬ ten. 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 back, pale with amazement at finding we had escaped. Had it been otherwise, the consequences must have been ter¬ rible. The exit from Paris towards Lyons is in the worst possible order ; scarcely two carriages can go abreast ; but notwithstanding our recent danger and escape, the driver dashed on as before, and I felt persuaded that under his mis¬ guidance something untoward must happen. However, we reached the end of our stage in safety ; but another and an¬ other, as wild as he, assumed the reins throughout the jour¬ ney, and surely it was no small cause of thanksgiving that we proceeded without mischief. The drivers of French Dili¬ gences are quite a people by themselves. Their endless talk

LYONS.

ings, shoutings, and cracking of whips by night as well as bj 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 impracticable 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 sur¬ face, and the more distant parts of the town occupying ele¬ vated 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 Ly¬ ons, and of the adjacent country from the observatory, is ex tensive and most interesting, and far exceeding in my estima tion 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, stirring scenes of trade, commerce, and giddy plea¬ sure, 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 Mont Cenis, and the range of the Alps towering away, with bold and well defined outline, in strong relief upon their clear atmospheric background. It was a scene never to be forgot¬ ten : 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

ROMISH SUPERSTITIONS.

days of absence from home, my eye was resting on those no¬ ble 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 distressing, 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 innu¬ merable 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 be¬ came 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 imme¬ diate 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 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 trap¬ pings of popish worshippers.

From Lyons, our course lay down the lovely and pic¬ turesque 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 im-

THE RHONE.

pressions 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 ad mired them, than on account of any direct or comparative im pressions 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 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 navio-ation, I learnt, that among the mountain-population on either side of the river, an important Protestant movement was progress¬ ing ; 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 Romish priesthood in France is on the decline — perhaps more than that, not only in the

AVIGNON - NISMES.

cities and towns, but in the more secluded parts of the king¬ dom also. This may he the effect of several causes — sepa¬ rately 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 in* quiry in the minds of the more thoughtful, which leads them to surmise the unscriptural nature of the spiritual and tempo' ral dominancy of their Church. Dispensations and indul* gences 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 ap¬ pearance — 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 visit¬ ing its ancient Roman remains, we again embarked on the 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 amphithe¬ atre, 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

2*

GENOA 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 bloodthirsty 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 Arles 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 harbor, 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 left, bathed in that sweet misty light which enriches and mellows the landscape on which it falls. We were in the gulf of Genoa, and soon its port became distinctly visible. Genoa, as viewed from the harbor, is very lovely. It is flanked by a chain of moun¬ tains, 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 forever.

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

CIV1TA-VECCHIA.

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 remem¬ bered 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 behavior 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 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.