In real locality, we apprehend, the controversy makes little difference, since both sides of the question mutually agree in choosing this southern end of the Asphaltic Lake for the position of the destroyed cities. M. De Saulcy places Zoar on the western side; Dr Robinson and M. Van de Velde, and all preceding travellers, settle its position on the eastern coast, upon the peninsula. The Frenchman finds his tangible memorials of Sodom, and the wonderful event which destroyed it, his large burned stones, and destroyed buildings, recognised by Arab tradition, on the still remaining soil; the American and the Netherlander cover these awful remnants of Almighty vengeance with the bitter waters wherein no life can be. The former proposition may admit of proof palpable to the senses, since “stupendous ruins” are not things to be ignored by an honest examination; but the waters of the lake, if they contain it, will not open to disclose their secret;—so all the advantages of proof are on M. de Saulcy’s side. As it is, however, the question does not seem to us a question for ordinary discussion, but simply one of comparative credibility of testimony—are there ruins, or are there not? Has there been glamour in M. de Saulcy’s eyes, or has obstinate scepticism obscured the vision of M. Van de Velde? The question is not one on which we are prepared to give a judgment. Our impetuous Gallic champion stands alone, defying the civilised Bedouin Criticism, as he defied the Ishmael of the desert; but an army of heavy artillery fights on the side espoused by M. Van de Velde. What shall we say?—in prospect of a magnificent duel pending between the head of the one party and the sole and indivisible representative of the other, only that our present author boldly throws himself into the discussion, flings his glove manfully in the face of the Frenchman, denies his premises, scouts his conclusions, and is thoroughly convinced in his own mind that not a vestige remains above ground of the submerged cities of the plain.
M. Van de Velde, who travels economically, without thinking it necessary to secure the attendance of sheikhs of half a dozen tribes, seems to meet with a very much less degree of annoyance and obstruction than is common to travellers in Palestine. We cannot fail to observe, in the midst of many complaints of the rapacity and perpetual exactions imposed by the tribes of the desert upon wandering pilgrims, that every traveller has at least one faithful Arab, who, if not entirely superior to baksheesh, does yet deport himself with exemplary conscientiousness, and gain the entire confidence and friendship of the party he conducts. A good omen this, for a race so completely beyond the rules of ordinary law. There are some cases, too, where, cast almost upon their charity, sick, exhausted, and undefended, with no greater retinue than two unwarlike servants and one Bedouin guide, M. Van de Velde meets with unexpected kindness and hospitality from these children of Ishmael, and in his experience the Bedouins seem to contrast rather favourably with the resident villagers through whose domains his former course had been. Notwithstanding, though the unobtrusive traveller, who trusts himself without a guard among them, may meet with less annoyance than the richly-equipped expedition, prodigal of piastres, one does not see how controversies, historical or geographical, touching this mysterious territory, can ever be rightly determined so long as the investigators are compelled to hurry from point to point, and are kept in terror of the least divergence from their projected course, lest an enemy pounce upon them in the wilds where no help is. A railway to the shores of the Dead Sea is scarcely to be feared or hoped for these few centuries, but there surely might be an expeditionary band, strong enough to disregard the wild inhabitants of this land, which piques and tantalises with imperfect revelations the curiosity of science. An expedition which should dare to take time, which should venture into deliberate and careful examinations, and which was sufficiently strong to overawe the lawless lords of the soil, might do much to settle the jars of opinion, and reveal to the general knowledge this terrible country, scarred and marked for ages by the chastising hand of God.
A minor difficulty in the way of reconciling one traveller’s experience with another’s, is the perpetual variation of proper names. Taken down as these must be from the guide of the moment, it is easy to account for the orthographical vicissitudes through which they pass; but it were surely well even to sacrifice a point and take our predecessor’s spelling instead of our own, rather than throw this mist of perplexity over the whole scene. Many a learned puzzle has come out of this peculiarity in the sacred records themselves, the shifting of names, and subtracting of syllables; and we are like, as it seems, to find the same difficulty continuing with us. But it is not necessary, surely, that every new traveller should set up an orthography of his own: with submission, it appears to us that accuracy of place is of much more importance than originality of name, and that he is to be the most commended who enables you at once, and without perplexity, to recognise the spot where, in his predecessor’s company, you have been before.
In taking leave of these pleasant volumes, we cannot help regretting once more that the sketches to which such frequent reference is made are not added to the text. Lieut. Van de Velde’s friend to whom his book is addressed, seems to have rather an unfair advantage over the public in this respect; and without detracting anything from the value of the pen-and-ink sketches, which are admirable of their kind, it is impossible not to feel a degree of injury, or to resist being provoked and tantalised by such a sentence as this—“If my short description of the vale of Shechem, with its mountains of Blessing and Curse, can in any way elucidate to you the narratives of Scripture, I shall be very glad. I hope my sketch will come in aid of my pen.”
And why, then, does not the sketch come in aid of the pen? The worshipful public who read his book claims to be the dearest of dear friends to an author, and suffers no such successful rivalry of its pretensions. We trust to see M. Van de Velde rectify this mistake in his second edition. A very animated book, full of life and motion, atmosphere and reality, he has added to our store—a good book, which the best of us may read “of Sundays,” but which the gayest of us will not find too dry for every day; and we will be glad to see Lieut. Van de Velde complete, by the addition of his sketches, so worthy a contribution to the little library of science, speculation, and adventure, which treats of the Holy Land.
BELLEROPHON.
A CLASSICAL BALLAD.
“Ὄς τᾶς ὀφίωδεος υιὸν ποτε Γόργονος
ἦ πολλ ἀμφὶ κρουνοῖς
Πάγασον ζευξαι ποθέων ἔπαθεν