ruins. The very place where it stood became a subject of controversy. That it was the Rekem of Moses and Joshua, Rakeme of Josephus, and the Hajr of the Arabs, all synonymous with the Petra of the Greeks (a rock), was generally admitted; but until the present century its situation was unknown, or mistaken for the town of Kerek, near the border of the Dead Sea, which was also a strong fortress of the Nabathæans at the time of their first acquaintance with the Greeks and Romans. That Kerek was then the capital of Petræa appears probable from Strabo's description, who says, that when besieged by Demetrius the Arabs placed their old men, women, and children on a certain rock (¿ì Tivos Térpas), steep, without walls, admitting only of one access to the summit, and situated 300 stadia from the Lake Asphaltites. This position does not quite agree with the site of Petra, which is twice that distance from the Dead Sea, and about eightythree Roman miles from Ailah or Akaba.

For the discovery and description of these interesting ruins geography is indebted to Burckhardt, who travelled through the mountains of Petræa in 1812. They were afterward visited (in 1818) by Captains Irby and Mangles, in company with Mr. Bankes and Mr. Legh; and more recently by two distinguished French travellers, MM. Leon de Laborde and Linant, whose talents have done for the tombs and temples of Petra what the splendid illustrations of Wood and Dawkins did for those of Palmyra.* The first sentiment that struck the mind of all these visiters was that of astonishment at the

* Voyage de l'Arabie Petrée, now in course of publication. Irby and Mangles's Travels, p. 407-437. Adventures of Giovanni Finati, vol. ii. chap. v. Macmichael's Journey to Constantinople, p. 228, &c. Seetzen passed through Idumæa in 1806, "where he expected to make several discoveries, but the fates decided otherwise." Zach's Corresp. p. 47. Burckh. Trav. in Syria, p. 422.

utter desolation which now reigns over those once celebrated regions, described by an inspired pen as "the fatness of the earth." It is scarcely possible to imagine how a wilderness so dreary and desolate could ever have been adorned with walled cities, or inhabited for ages by a powerful and opulent people. The aspect of the surrounding country is singularly wild and fantastic. On one side stretches an immense desert of shifting sands, whose surface is covered with black flints, and broken by hillocks into innumerable undulations; on the other are rugged and insulated precipices, among which rises Mount Hor with its dark summits, and near it lies the ancient Petra, in a plain or hollow of unequal surface (Wady Mousa), enclosed on all sides with a vast amphitheatre of rocks.

The entrance to this celebrated metropolis is from the east, through a deep ravine called El Syk; and it is not easy to conceive any thing more awful or sublime than such an approach. The width in general is not more than sufficient for the passage of two horsemen abreast; through the bottom winds the stream that watered the city. As this rivulet must have been of great importance to the inhabit ants, they seem to have bestowed much pains in protecting and regulating its course. The channel appears to have been covered by a stone pavement, vestiges of which yet remain; and, in several places, walls were constructed to give the current a proper direction, and prevent it from running to waste. Several grooves or beds branched off as the river descended, in order to convey a supply to the gardens, and higher parts of the city. On either hand of the ravine rises a wall of perpendicular rocks, varying from 400 to 700 feet in height, which often overhang to such a degree that, without their absolutely meeting, the sky is intercepted; scarcely leaving more light than in a cavern, for a hundred yards together. The sides of this romantic chasm, VOL. I.-N

from which several small streamlets issue, are clothed with the tamarisk, the wild-fig, the oleander, and the caper-plant, which sometimes hang down from the cliffs and crevices in beautiful festoons, or grow about the path with a luxuriance that almost obstructs the passage. Near the entrance of the pass a bold arch is thrown across it at a great height. Whether this was the fragment of an aqueduct, or part of a road formerly connecting the opposite cliffs, the travellers had no opportunity of examining; but its appearance as they passed under it, was terrific; hanging over their heads between two rugged masses, apparently inaccessible. Without changing much its general direction, this natural defile presents so many windings in its course, that the eye sometimes cannot penetrate beyond a few paces forward, and is often puzzled to distinguish in what direction the passage will open. For nearly two miles its sides continue to increase in height as the path descends. The solitude is disturbed by the incessant screaming of eagles, hawks, owls, and ravens, soaring above in considerable numbers; apparently amazed at strangers invading their lonely habitation. At every step the scenery discovers new and more remarkable features; a stronger light begins to break through the sombre perspective; until at length the ruins of the city burst on the view of the astonished traveller in their full grandeur; shut in on every side by barren craggy precipices, from which numerous recesses and narrow valleys branch out in all directions, ending in a sort of cul-de-sac, without any outlet.

It was doubtless the impregnable nature of the place that rendered it so celebrated as a commercial depot; for while it admitted of easy access to beasts of burden, it might defy the attacks of robbers or enemies, however formidable. Though well chosen in point of security, the position of the town was subject to many inconveniences. The summer heats must have been excessive; as the bare elevated