their religion as "neither Pagan, Mohammedan, Jewish, nor Christian; but a motley combination of the worst elements of them all." He also gives us an epitome of their peculiar doctrines, and a specimen of their catechism, from the Foreign Quarterly. These people have lately, on several occasions, manifested a desire to be instructed in Protestant Christianity; but their Maronite neighbors have as often interfered by arms and violence to prevent it. This has been the cause of those disastrous wars, which, within a few years, have desolated the mountain, and well nigh ruined both parties. After several fruitless applications to the British government for protection, they "threw themselves into the arms of the Moslems, and for the first time received Turkish schools, and instruction in the principles of the Koran." If the influence of England with the Sublime Porte could obtain the toleration of Protestantism in the Turkish empire, the Druses would readily embrace it, and a wide door for Christian enterprise would thus be opened in the East. Strong political motives may induce England to attempt to form ecclesiastical relations with these people; and the establishment of the diocese of St. James at Jerusalem may be the first step in a series of measures which will ultimately secure to her a predominant influence in the affairs of the East, and tend to the diffusion of a pure and elevated form of Christianity in that quarter. In these chapters, as in other portions of the work, Dr. Durbin occasionally makes remarks which evince a clear insight into the labyrinth of European politics, and a comprehension of the hidden springs of policy which regulate the movements of the "Great Powers" in all questions relating to the East. Indeed, the book generally will prove no less instructive to the politician and statesman, than to the scholar and Christian.

Dr. Durbin awards merited praise to the American missionaries in Syria, for their devoted labors among the mountaineers. Though opposed by the Greek bishop and clergy, they have cast bread upon the waters, which may be found after many days.

In the course of his travels, our author had frequent opportunities to observe the regularity and devoutness of the Mohammedans in their daily worship. The volatile Greek, even at public service, hurries through the mummeries of his church with scarcely the semblance of gravity; but the sober Turk, at the stated hours of prayer, wherever he may be, abstracts himself at once from surrounding objects, performs the customary prostrations, and ejaculates the prescribed formulas of his devotion with a conscientiousness which might teach Christians a lesson. An illustration of this occurred on the passage from Beyrout to Smyrna.

"But such a deck! It was literally covered from stem to stern by two hundred and eighty hadjis, or pilgrims, returning from the holy cities. They were divided into small squads, each surrounded by its furniture. Some lay on mats, some on carpets, others on rich cushions, and not a few upon the hard boards. The women were hid behind piles of provisionsacks, water-pots, saddle-bags, and what not, or were half suffocated under quilts hung over them for concealment. The waves soon began to break over the deck, and torrents of rain to fall. I watched one of the proudest of the Turks: his magnificent turban soon lost its fair proportions, and stuck to his head like a shapeless scull-cap; his venerable beard, thoroughly drenched, lay matted down upon his breast; but, amid it all, he continued, with the utmost composure, to smoke his pipe until it was drowned out, and then took his pocket compass, found the direction of Mecca, turned his face thither, and patiently performed his devotions amid the general confusion around him. During the whole voyage I heard not a murmur from any of them, nor witnessed a single instance of ill-blood, or even of disagreement. Half a dozen of the richer ones at last took refuge in the cabin; yet they did not eat with us, but spread their carpets on the floor, and sat cross-legged each at his own meal. At stated times during the day they turned their faces toward Mecca, by aid of compass, and performed their devotions as their brethren on deck. Their general deportment was grave and becoming, and they delighted to be addressed by the title of hadji, or pilgrim. The number of pilgrimages to Mecca is said to be decreasing annually, probably from the want of money as well as the decline of faith."—Vol. ii, pp. 101, 102.

Our traveler's course from Smyrna lay over Mount Pagus, and across the Cayster, to Ephesus; thence up the Cayster to Philadelphia; over Mount Tmolus to Sardis on the "golden Pactolus;" across the valley of the Hermus to Thyatira; and thence over Mount Temnus, and down the valley of the Caicus to Pergamus. He mentions a fact of much scientific interest in relation to the geology of this part of Asia Minor. The valleys of this region are connected with each other by narrow extensions between the mountains, somewhat, as we imagine, like the avenues of a vast labyrinth. Noticing the resemblance between these insulated mountains and the lofty islands in the neighboring sea, he says,

"Taken together, they form one system, of volcanic origin, the only difference being that the islands are surrounded by water, and the mountains by connected valleys. Once they were all islands, but by the general elevation of the continent, the sea was drawn away from the bases of the mountains, and what was once its bottom became the rich valleys of Asia Minor.”—Vol. ii, p. 120.

We have already alluded to our author's account of his journey in Asia Minor, and his visit to the Seven Churches," as exceed

ingly interesting and attractive. This part of his book has all the freshness of novelty, and contains many passages of great beauty and eloquence. Some of the descriptions are full of spirit and vivacity; while others are tinged with an air of solemnity and sadness such as a man of sensibility would naturally feel as he treads upon the haunted ground which was once the garden of the world, but now a vast necropolis. A tone of deep, religious feeling pervades these chapters; and is, indeed, manifested on all suitable occasions throughout the entire work. We have space for only one or two extracts.

Ephesus affords one of the most striking instances of the mutability of human affairs, and perhaps of the fulfillment of divine predictions, that can be found in history. Her wealth, in the old pagan times, rivaled, if it did not exceed, that of any of the Grecian cities of Asia; in the arts, her name was connected with the renown of Parrhasius and Apelles; in architecture, she far outstripped all her rivals. Her splendid temple, which required the wealth of Asia, collected for centuries, for its creation, was the wonder of the world; and around its sacred inclosures the Persian, the Lydian, the Greek, and the Roman, in turn bowed as worshipers. Nowhere in the world did the old idolatry display so much pomp and magnificence; nowhere did it press into its service with so much success the highest powers of human

And

But it was not only in the palmy days of paganism that Ephesus was glorious. The visits of Paul, the preaching of Apollos, the ministry of Timothy, the faith and patience of the first converts to Christianity, these, and a thousand other recollections, make the early Christian days of Ephesus glorious in the annals of the church. even after the lessons of Paul and Timothy had been forgotten, and the first love' of the Ephesian church had waned, the city was still the seat of Christianity, and the chosen place of assembly for her bishops, her synods, and her councils.

"But all this glory has departed. Unto the angel of the church of Ephesus write,' was the message of Christ by his servant John: Remember, therefore, from whence thou art fallen, and repent, and do thy first works; or else I will come unto thee quickly, and will remove thy candlestick out of its place, unless thou repent.' It was not long before the candlestick was removed. For a few centuries the church of Ephesus was powerful; but in that period, error and superstition on the part of the people, combined with and fostered by worldly-mindedness and ambition on the part of the lordly prelates who sat in the place of Timothy, Onesimus, and John, prepared the way for its destruction. The Christian history of Ephesus may be said to have ended with the sixth century; since that period it can hardly be said that the church has existed there at all; and now, there is neither angel nor candlestick in the once flourishing city. From the ruins of her theatre, the scene of noble martyrdoms, from the broken columns and scattered sculpture of her temples, from the desolation of her once

peopled plain and terraced hills, a voice, audible enough to those who will listen, proclaims, 'He that hath an ear, let him hear what the Spirit saith unto the churches." "Vol. ii, pp. 130, 131.

In the account of Philadelphia, after citing the words of Christ, through John the revelator, to that church, the author thus remarks on the faithfulness with which the divine promise has been kept :

"The promise of divine interposition in the hour of temptation is the distinguishing feature in this letter of Jesus to the Philadelphians; and wonderfully has it been fulfilled for the last eighteen hundred years. The candlestick has never been removed; the angel of the church has always been there. The altar of Jesus has been often shaken, both by the imperial pagan power, when Philadelphia supplied eleven martyrs as companions to Polycarp in the flames at Smyrna, and by the arms of the false prophet, when Bajazet and Tamerlane swept over Asia Minor like an inundation; yet it has never been overthrown. The crumbling walls of twenty ruined churches, and the swelling domes and towering minarets of a dozen mosques, attest the hours of fiery temptation; yet three thousand Christian Greeks, and a half a dozen churches still kept in repair, and still vocal with praise to Jesus, attest that he has been faithful to his promise : 'I also will keep thee in the hour of temptation, which shall come upon all the world, to try them that dwell upon the earth.' Ephesus is desolate, and without a Christian temple or altar; Laodicea is without inhabitant, except the foxes and jackals that prowl amid her circus and her theatres; Sardis is represented by one Turkish and one Greek hut; a handful of down-trodden Greek Christians worship in a subterranean chapel at Pergamos; but, in the language of Gibbon, 'Philadelphia alone has been saved by prophecy or courage. At a distance from the sea, forgotten by the emperor, encompassed on all sides by the Turks, SHE only among the Greek colonies and churches of Asia is still erect—a column in a scene of ruins."-Vol. ii, pp. 139, 140..

The lovers of Homer (and who that has read his magnificent epics does not love Homer?) will follow our traveler with delight over the "pine-covered and spring-nourishing Ida," and along the banks of old Scamander and Simois, and over the silent plain where Troy was. The tombs of Hector and Achilles still frown at each other across the desolate area which so often witnessed their heroism, as if their very dust were animated with undying hate. But here, as at other places which the busy memory of the pilgrim peoples with the shadows of the glorious past,

"Unmoved the Moslem sits, the light Greek carols by."

At the Dardanelles, Dr. Durbin took passage by steamboat to Constantinople, and entered the Golden Horn at sunrise. The VOL. VI.-9

description of his approach to the Turkish capital is too fine a picture to be omitted.

"As the day dawned, the steward roused us; the boat got under way, and, sweeping round by Prince's Islands, headed to the city. The morning star glittered as a single diamond set in the calm, blue sky, and gradually disappeared in the soft light gushing up over the mountains of Asia. The first glimpse of the city disclosed the Seraskier's Tower, a strong, dark line on the kindling sky; in a few minutes appeared the six slender minarets of the Mosque of Sultan Achmet, and then the four of the venerable St. Sophia; and amid each group suddenly rose the dark mass of its swelling dome. As the glowing light rapidly spread over the heavens, other domes appeared upon the horizon, and their countless minarets, with rich, gilded pinnacles, pierced the plane of vision. The European coast was comparatively level, and beautifully green; dark mountain masses formed the Asiatic horizon, over which, as the sun came up, the sky impended as a canopy of molten gold.

"At first the city seemed one undistinguished mass; but, as we approached the Seven Towers, its parts gradually became distinct to the view. To the left, forming the background of the picture, the dark forests of cypresses indicated the resting-places of the dead of many generations. Directly before us the vast and complicated buildings of Seraglio Point unfolded themselves, crowned by St. Sophia just without the Sublime Porte, and ornamented with gardens of magnificent evergreens sloping down to the sea-wall. Approaching the Point, the mouths of the Bosphorus and Golden Horn opened before us, and yet appeared perfectly locked within the magnificent amphitheatre of cities formed by Scutari on the right, Galata, Tophanna, and Pera in front, and the city on the left. As we swept round Seraglio Point, the Golden Horn expanded before us, a broad, deep indentation, winding for miles between the city and its vast suburbs, and animated by ten thousand light, swallow-shaped caiques darting to and fro, and sitting as lightly on the waters as the flocks of seagulls that scarcely kept out of the way of their oars. Our anchor was quickly down, our luggage landed without custom-house examination, and we climbing the steep, narrow, rugged streets of Pera to Miserie's English hotel, where we once more found ourselves within the domain of European society and civilization."-Vol ii, pp. 185-187.

The "observations" made in this ancient city, and especially the notices of the social and moral condition of the different classes of its population, are lively and graphic. The religious creed and ceremonies of the Mohammedans are briefly explained; and the different postures of prayer illustrated by wood-cuts from Lane. A description is also given of the frantic exhibitions of the dervishes, whom our author calls "the monks of Moslemism." With the aid of the cuts, the reader will get an idea of their performances which will not be easily erased from his memory. There are two classer