man passed us with his basket of fish: they were small and few in number; "he had been," he said, "toiling all the day, and caught nothing." This poor Arab seemed venerable to me, despite his rags and abject appearance, for was he not a fisherman in the sea of Galilee, the same as Peter, and James, and Andrew, and John? though, indeed, they had boats and nets to fish with, while this half-naked Arab had but a hook to cast into the sea. As he passed on towards Tiberias, I could not but gaze on his retreating figure till distance hid it, so many scenes that made this shore immortal came crowding thickly on my mind. The toiling sons of Zebedee, and then their teeming nets and sinking boats, the listening multitudes, the crowded shore, and Jesus teaching them out of the ship a little way from the land, the sudden storm which tossed the boat and made the frighted fishermen awake their Lord to calm the very wind and waves at his Almighty word. What associations were these! all called forth with hitherto unknown reality by the sight of a fisherman of Galilee. And when night came on, and the bright moon threw its cold solemn light upon the waters, and made the mountains on the further side look grand and undefined, how unrivalled was that scene, with all its train of circumstances, with

all its history! In the daylight, though not equal to the Swiss, or even to the better of our English lakes, on account of the very level outline of the eastern mountains, and the want of trees to break the monotony of colour, which gives a kind of sadness to the prospect, though the blue waters are unchequered by a single sail: yet even thus there is a beauty in Gennesareth. From the hill side, behind the baths, the view was one which charmed the more I gazed; the colour so heavenly blue, with the crumbling walls and towers of Tiberias almost upon its bosom; and northward, on a lofty mountainridge, Safet is visible, "a city set upon a hill;" more eastwardly the yielding hills, hint of the entrance of the Jordan; and over this, far distant, yet still first in mountain dignity, rises the snowy head of greater Hermon. But moonlight, to my mind, was most congenial to this sacred amphitheatre of hills and spreading vale of waters. I could not go to rest; and so I wandered forth, leaving our tents beside the lake, strange objects by the moon's uncertain rays. Up by this lofty overhanging mountain, a caverned rock my cloister, what solemn, strange delight it was to sit, and muse, and think of Jesus! How stilled was every thing; some distant jackal's mournful howl

alone disturbed the silence, so imagination had no curb in sound to check her freedom, and figured to herself a labouring boat tossed by the waves of a contrary wind in the midst of the sea at my feet. It was the fourth watch of the night, in years gone by, and, lo! there walked upon the obedient water the incarnate Son of God; a deadly fear came over those poor fishermen within the ship, but their cry of horror was changed into one of adoring wonder when they hear their Master's voice, "Be of good cheer; it is I, be not afraid” (Matt. xiv. 24. 27.). And then to dwell upon the thought, that in some mountain by this lake so loved by Him, perhaps upon the very hill I touched, "Jesus had gone apart to pray, and when the evening came, was there alone" (Matt. xiv. 23.), alone in blessed communion with his Father. I cannot tell what then I felt, in that lone hallowed spot, by that most hallowed shore. I do not even know how long I stayed, spell-bound by thoughts unknown to me ever before or since. Yes, sanctified Gennesareth, as long as memory reigns, and reason lasts; till death shall sever from us things of time, and heavenly joys leave no room for the soul to dwell on those of earth, thou art the fairest treasure of my recollection, the brightest jewel gathered in my pilgrimage!

CHAP. V.

TIBERIAS TO JERUSALEM,

EARLY the next morning, April 16th, we passed along the shore, over the scattered and heaped ruins of ancient Tiberias, now remembered only by a few light granite columns; and approaching again near to the walls of the present city, we took the course of a large wady which descended from the north-west, ascended the hills, and, after passing a spot where Yussuf assured us that the miracle of the loaves and fishes was performed ("even the Turks," said he, "are obliged to admit it"), we found ourselves, in three hours, near the village of Loubyeh, which, though somewhat on an eminence, looked down in part upon the memorable plain where was fought the dreadful battle of Hâttin, or Tiberias, so fatal to the Templars, and the cause of the Crusades, and so glorious for Saladin and the defenders of Islam. Hereabouts, too (Yussuf pointed out the exact spot), the site of the Assumption of the Virgin is placed, the account of which legendary transaction is a very bitter

jest upon the history it would substantiate; in truth, a series of assumptions. Over a plain *; then through some brushwood, and hard by, in a little valley, lies Kaphar Kanna, which some think Cana of Galilee; and although Dr. Robinson suggests "Kama-el-Jalil" as the true one, the position of this, so close to Nazareth, gives it, to my mind, a greater probability. There were only a few low houses, but the little grove of olives, figs, and locust-trees diffused a pleasant shade, and the village well (where, if this be the true Cana of Galilee, the water was most likely drawn which turned to wine at the bidding of its God,) was crowded with sheep, and goats, and a few oxen, waiting by a broken stone trough (which bore marks of Roman workmanship) for the elevation of a leathern water-bucket, which a nearly-naked shepherd lad was drawing up, full of the precious liquid. We stopped a few minutes at this well, where were gathered several women and girls with their rude earthen waterpots, paid the little shepherd for a draught from his bucket (how sweet I thought it), then filled our zemzemyahs, or water-bottles, "salaam'd" the dark-eyed and

*To the left of which Mount Tabor reared its conical head, apparently at no great distance.