duction. Towards the close of this year, he sustained the loss of his only surviving parent. At the usual period he obtained a scholarship with the highest honour, upon which he immediately became a resident in college; but an inauspicious attachment weakened the stimulus to his exertions for the attainment of a fellowship, with which marriage is held incompatible. His prospects for obtaining a competency in any other pursuit were so distant aud uncertain, that the 'family of the young lady deemed it prudent at once to break ' off all further intercourse, before a mutual engagement had ' actually taken place.' This heartless treatment, he long and severely felt.

In a short time after this severe disappointment, and a few days previous to his ordination, (which took place in Nov. 1817,) his feelings received another shock by the death of a dear fellow-student, one of his most valued and intimate friends. Under the deep impression of two such afflictive trials, he was obliged to prepare for a removal from society which he loved, from the centre of science and literature, to which he was so much devoted, to an obscure and remote country curacy in the North of Ireland, where he could not hope to meet one individual to enter into his feelings or to hold communion with him upon the accustomed subjects of his former pursuits. He felt as if he had been transplanted into a totally new world,—as a missionary abandoning home, and friends, and cherished habits for the awful and important work to which he had solemnly devoted him, self.'

Mr. Wolfe had, from his childhood, been impressed with religious feelings; and his Biographer remarks, that the pure 'moral taste which seemed almost a natural element of his mind, may properly be attributed to the gradual and insensible operation of that Divine principle with which he had been so early imbued.' He is represented as having been always devout and regular in his habits of private prayer and attendance upon public worship. But, when he came to preach the doctrines and duties of Christianity to others, they burst upon his mind in their full magnitude and in all their awful extent. Under such circumstances and with such feelings he entered on the arduous duties of his station. I am again,' he writes in 1818, the weather-beaten curate: I have trudged ' roads-forded bogs-braved snow and rain-become umpire between the living-have counselled the sick-administered to the dying-and to-morrow shall bury the dead.' A large portion of the parish is situated in a wild, hilly country, abounding in bogs and trackless wastes, with a scattered population. When he entered upon his work, he found the church thinly attended; but, in a short time, the effects of his con

stant zeal, his impressive style of preaching, and his daily intercourse with his parishioners, soon began to appear in the crowded congregations which gathered round him. A considerable number of the Protestants in his parish were either Presbyterians or Wesleyans, and there was nothing, as he ⚫ himself declared, which he found more difficult and trying at first, than how to discover and pursue the best mode of deal⚫ing with the numerous conscientious dissenters in his parish.' He had soon, however, as might have been anticipated, many of each denomination among his constant hearers. I have preached,' he writes, to both in the church, and conversed with both in the cottage.' The affectionate cordiality and simple earnestness of his general deportment, together with the solemnity and tenderness of his manner of preaching, won upon their affections; and some of the good Presbyterians and Methodists who flocked to hear him, have been known to say, that he would almost do for a meeting-minister.' An artless encomium, which implies much.

During the year that the typhus fever raged most violently in the North of Ireland, his neighbourhood was much afflicted with the disease; and thus, the important duty of visiting the sick, (which to him was always a work of most anxious solicitude,) was vastly increased; and he accordingly applied himself with indefatigable zeal in every quarter of his extended parish, in administering temporal and spiritual aid to his poor flock. In the discharge of such duties he exposed himself to frequent colds; and his disregard of all precaution, and of the ordinary comforts of life to which he had been accustomed soon, unhappily, confirmed a consumptive tendency in his constitution, of which some symptoms appeared when at college. His frame was robust, and his general health usually strong; but an habitual cough, of which he seemed almost unconscious, often excited the apprehensions of his friends; and at length, in the spring of 1821, the complaint of which it seemed the forerunner, began to make inroads upon his constitution. No arguments, however, could for a long time dissuade him from his usual work. So little did he himself regard the fatal symptoms, that he could not be prevailed upon to relax his chial labours. At length, his altered looks and other unfavourable symptoms appeared so alarming, that some of his most respectable parishioners wrote to his friends in Dublin, to urge them to use their influence in persuading him to retire for a while from his arduous du ties, and to have the best medical advice for him without further delay. But, such was the anxiety he felt for his parish, and so little conscious did he seem of the declining state of his health, that no entreaties could avail,'

paro

The habits of his life while he resided on his own cure, were in every respect calculated to confirm his constitutional tendency to consumption. He seldom thought of providing a regular meal, and

his humble cottage exhibited every appearance of the neglect of the ordinary comforts of life. A few straggling rush-bottomed chairs, piled up with his books,-a small rickety table before the fire-place, covered with parish memoranda,-and two trunks, containing all his papers, serving at the same time to cover the broken parts of the floor,-constituted all the furniture of his sitting-room. The mouldy walls of the closet in which he slept, were hanging with loose folds of damp paper; and between this wretched cell and his parlour, was the kitchen, which was occupied by the disbanded soldier, his wife, and their numerous brood of children, who had migrated with him from his first quarters, and seemed now in full possession of the whole concern, entertaining him merely as a lodger, and usurping the entire disposal of his small plot of ground, as the absolute lords of the soil.'

Such is the picture presented to us of the life of an Irish curate! Such is the style in which the wealthiest ecclesiastical establishment in the world provides for her effective labourers! He was at length kindly forced away to Dublin, where his physician, to use his own expression, stripped him of his gown. He passed the winter of 1822 at Exeter, and in the following summer, was ordered to try the effect of a voyage to Bourdeaux; but the apparent benefit he derived from these measures, was slight and transient: the fatal disease had taken full hold of his constitution. About the end of November, it was deemed advisable that he should guard against the severity of the winter by removing to the Cove of Cork. Here he languished till the 21st of February 1823, on which day he breathed his last, in the thirty-second year of his age. For the interesting particulars of his last moments, worthy of his saintly life, we must refer our readers to the affecting narrative of his friend and biographer, who has done himself honour by the manner in which he has performed this act of affection and justice to the memory of Mr. Wolfe, and of duty to the public. These Remains will not fail to obtain the po-. pularity which they deserve; and the bright example of this apostolic man will preach to the hearts of thousands still more impressively than even his pathetic living eloquence.

Art. III. Travels among the Arab Tribes inhabiting the Countries East of Syria and Palestine; including a Journey from Nazareth to the Mountains beyond the Dead Sea, and from thence through the Plains of the Hauran to Bozra, Damascus, Tripoly, &c. With an Appendix, containing a Refutation of certain unfounded Calumnies against the Author of this Work. By J. S. Buckingham, Author of Travels in Palestine, &c. 4to. pp. 680. Price 31. 13s. 6d. London, 1825.

THIS volume forms a sequel to Mr. Buckingham's Travels

in Palestine, reviewed in the seventeenth volume of our Journal, a work of which we felt authorized to speak favourably on the whole, as adding materially to our information with respect to some parts of the Holy Land hitherto rarely visited. Although there was some little appearance of book-making, the diligent pains evidently taken by the Author to turn his travels to the best account by the aid of historical and scriptural illustration, sufficiently atoned for this besetting sin of travellers. As an account of the Holy Land, it is in all respects superior to the corresponding part of the travels of Dr. Clarke, by whom the art of book making was carried to perfection. Mr. Buckingham, in whatever literary or scientific qualification he may be deficient, is certainly a very clever, observant, and meritorious traveller. Into the quarrel between him and the Bankes's, we have no wish to enter; but we must say, that a more unfair, ungentlemanly, and unprincipled article never appeared in any respectable journal, than that article in the Quarterly Review, by which it was attempted to run down the Author's former volume, and for which a jury have recently brought in a verdict of damages*. Mr. Buckingham is not the only oriental traveller who has met with such treatment in the Quarterly Review. Dr. Richardson, a man whose learning and piety are both unquestionable, and whose travels are of high value and interest, was insulted as an ignoramus, and his work was represented as of less value than even the flimsy volume of Sir Frederick Henniker. That there must have been some personal motive for all this, is quite obvious: it has been supposed to proceed from the mean jealousy of a rival traveller. Whatever dictated it, nothing can extenuate the

*Mr. Murray, the publisher, much to his honour, declined offering any defence. The Attorney-General said, that he was instructed by his client the defendant, not to proceed with the case, and to express his regret that his publication had been made the vehicle of private slander against the plaintiff.'-Morn. Chron. July 14,

1825.

baseness of the proceeding, which is chargeable alike with bad faith, (wilful falsehood being clearly chargeable on the Reviewer,) meanness, and cowardice. If Mr. Gifford was only the tool, we pity him.

The present volume contains an account of the Author's journey from Nazareth, where the former volume terminates, through the Haouran, to Damascus, and thence, along the coast, to Aleppo. In consequence of the disturbed state of the country at that period, he deemed it imprudent to attempt to proceed from Nazareth to Damascus direct, and therefore, (although we must confess that we do not clearly comprehend his reasons,) thought it best to turn southward, and try to reach Assalt and Kerek, with the intention of reaching Bagdadt. Laying aside his Turkish costume, he assumed the mean garb of a Bedoween, and, accompanied by a Christian Arab as his guide, set off on his singularly round-about ex

cursion.

The route from Nazareth to Assalt (Szalt) is much frequented by merchants, and was travelled by Burckhardt in 1812. Instead, however, of following the valley of the Jordan as far southward as Bisan, Mr. Buckingham crossed the river about two hours below its outlet from the Lake of Tiberias, where it was not more than a hundred feet wide, but scarcely fordable. About one o'clock on the second day, he arrived at the site of considerable ruins on the eastern bank, which still bear the name of Amatha. A torrent descends from the hills above, and falls into the Jordan under the name of Wady Rajib, and a city of that name is said to have occupied the summit. Soon after fording the Zerka, he ascended a hill called Djebel Arkoob Massaloobeah, on the summit of which is a fine level and fertile plain with an ancient site, called by the Arabs Massaera or Mashaera, which he supposes to be the ancient Machaerus. This plain forms the base of the high range of hills to which is given the name of Djebel Assalt. In ascending this range, our Traveller soon came to the snow; and on the highest summit, which, Burckhardt says, is called Djebel Osha, the cold was excessive, and the snow formed one unbroken mass. Mr. Buckingham conjectures the height to be about 5,000 feet above the level of the sea.

Tradition confirms the Arabs of the country in the belief that this is the summit of Mount Nebo. On the very peak of the highest eminence stands a tomb, with several common graves about it. This is called the tomb of Nebbe Osha, the prophet Joshua; and the belief is general, that the successor of Moses was buried here. The humbler graves around it are said to be those of Jews who had chosen this as their place of sepulture. The tomb appeared to me a