The innocents abroad; . t must have been very different. Which all of us will freely grant. But it truly is monoto-nous and uninviting, and there is no sufficient reason for de-scribing it as being otherwise. Of all the lands there are for dismal scenery, I think Pales-tine must be the prince. The hills are barren, they are dull ofcolor, they are unpicturesque in shape. The valleys are un-sightly deserts fringed with a feeble vegetation that has an ex-pression about it of being sorrowful and despondent. The DeadSea and the Sea of Galilee sleep in the midst of a vast stretchof hill and plain wh
The innocents abroad; . t must have been very different. Which all of us will freely grant. But it truly is monoto-nous and uninviting, and there is no sufficient reason for de-scribing it as being otherwise. Of all the lands there are for dismal scenery, I think Pales-tine must be the prince. The hills are barren, they are dull ofcolor, they are unpicturesque in shape. The valleys are un-sightly deserts fringed with a feeble vegetation that has an ex-pression about it of being sorrowful and despondent. The DeadSea and the Sea of Galilee sleep in the midst of a vast stretchof hill and plain wherein the eye rests upon no pleasant tint,no striking object, no soft picture dreaming in a purple haze ormottled with the shadows of the clouds. Every outline isharsh, every feature is distinct, there is no perspective—dis-tance works no enchantment here. It is a hopeless, dreary,heart-broken land. Small shreds and patches of it must be very beautiful in thefull flush of spring, however, and all the more beautiful by. PRESENT PALESTINE. 607 contrast with the far-reaching desolation that surrounds themon every side. I would like much to see the fringes of theJordan in spring-time, and Shechem, Esdraelon, Ajalon andthe borders of Galilee—but even then these spots would seemmere toy gardens set at wide intervals in the waste of a limit-less desolation. Palestine sits in sackcloth and ashes. Over it broods thespell of a curse that has withered its helds and fettered its en-ergies. Where Sodom and Gomorrah reared their domes andtowers, that solemn sea now floods the plain, in whose bitterwaters no living thing exists—over whose waveless surface theblistering air hangs motionless and dead—about whose bordersnothing grows but weeds, and scattering tufts of cane, and thattreacherous fruit that promises refreshment to parching lips,but turns to ashes at the touch. J^azareth is forlorn; aboutthat ford of Jordan where the hosts of Israel entered thePromised Land with songs of rej
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Keywords: ., bo, bookcentury1800, bookdecade1890, booksubjectvoyagesandtravels
