the front of a beautiful temple which stood facing the termination of the ravine. The temple was wholly hewn in the rock; its proportions were harmonious, its architecture was not in the slightest degree touched by time, and though its embellishments were rather of a florid description, yet the elegance and beauty of the structure, set off by the ruggedness of the rocks around it, made the deepest impression on the mind of the traveller, and already Burckhardt was more than recompensed for all the perils on which he had adventured in the pass he had now traversed. This edifice, on whose beauteous face the sun loves to linger, even in this benighted ravine, was not a palace but a tomb. Whose dust reposed in it, it is now impossible to say, but certainly it conveys no mean idea of the wealth and skill of that people who could erect such monuments to their citizens or rulers.

At this point Burckhardt found that the pass turned to the north. Following its course, he passed by an infinite number of tombs, both Arabian and Roman, hewn in the rock on both sides of the path, and at last came to the remains of a theatre. The theatre is cut, with all its benches, out of the rock of the mountain, and is likely to remain as long as the mountain itself. Ah! little did the crowds which filled it night after night, and the actors who here fretted their little hour, foresee the awful tragedy which the city around them was one day to present!

A few paces farther, and the remains of the city,

in all their grandeur, burst full upon the view of the traveller. He had now arrived on a little plain of about two miles' circumference. This plain was covered throughout with mounds of buried ruins, amid which rose a few faded arches and columns, and the broken walls of one or two palaces. Around the little plain was a perpendicular wall of rock some hundred feet in height. The magnificence of the scene no language can describe. The sides of the mountains were hewn into the most imposing structures-temples, tombs, dwellings -and these embellished with every variety of ornament, colonnades, architraves, and surmounting urns; while, in the background, towered the romantic peaks of the mountains. The whole looked like a scenic representation of the most gorgeous description; only, instead of being painted on canvas, it was wrought in the solid rock. The traveller continued to gaze in wonder and delight. Here he felt there was no room for mistake. These singular remains must be those of Petra-the long-lost capital of the Edomites; the centre once of the commerce of the world; the city against which Isaiah had pronounced a fearful doom, and on which it had been fearfully fulfilled. Long had she dwelt among the dead. Long had she sat in darkness. She was visited only by the Arab, who was incapable of understanding the awful lessons she was fitted to teach. But now the gates of her grave had been opened; and now the hour was come when Petra was to be set before the eyes of the whole world,

174 PETRA, THE LONG-LOST CAPITAL OF EDOM.

and when her warning voice was to be sounded in the ears of all nations.

With how much truth may it be affirmed that Petra is a preacher from the dead! She has been sent from the grave to warn living cities. And when the infidel thinks how much additional force the discovery of this long-lost city has given to the evidence of the inspiration of the prophets, he will feel that it is impossible to tell how often it may be the will of Providence, in years to come, to open the earth or rend the mountains, and bring up new and stronger witnesses, which, though buried there meanwhile, have their hour of resurrection appointed -bring them up, we say, as Petra was brought up, to give their testimony in behalf of that Word which "endures for ever."

THE CHURCH IN THE CATACOMBS. CHRISTIANITY is the same from the beginning unto the end. The oracles of our heavenly Father, as spoken by the mouth of the anointed Saviour, have still the same voice which they bore before the cross was set up on Calvary. The divine principles which reveal the will of the omnipotent and immaculate God, and which are preserved in his Word, can know no change nor shadow of turning; but the visible Christian church, since its foundation until to-day, has assumed many diverse forms, according to circumstances and the conviction of its members. At first she was lowly in form, humble, peaceful, and meek, seeking the secluded mountainside and the quiet waters by which to worship. From poverty did God's anointed Son come forth, and he preached salvation to the poor. Poor and humble were the Galilean fishermen who spread abroad the glorious gospel of love; and it was the poor and needy that first heard and received the glad tidings with joy. As time rolled on, however, and the rich and powerful attached themselves to Christianity, the stately cathedral displaced the humble cell, and a splendid ritual became the service of the visible church. No city in the world is more fruitful of historical associations than Rome; and no part of her history is more instructive or interesting than that of the Christian church. Like her polytheism, which emanated from the subter

ranean temple of Consus, the Roman church arose from the dark and gloomy catacombs; and as the former saw its crowning glories in the temple of Jupiter Olympus, so did the latter behold her greatness in the St Peter's of Buonarotti. There is no more instructive employment for the reflection of man than to observe the development of any system, even from that of a grain of seed to that of a grand leading idea; the spirit and nature of man and the ways of Providence are illustrated in both.

Mr Maitland's elaborate and learned treatise on the "Church in the Catacombs "* is perhaps one of the most important, as it is one of the most interesting episodes of church history. It is most interesting as it relates to the primitive Christians; it is most important as it relates to the growth of the Roman hierarchy. He says

The subterranean galleries which penetrate the soil surrounding the city of Rome, after having for four centuries served as a refuge and a sanctuary to the ancient church, were nearly lost sight of during the disorder occasioned by barbarian invasions. As the knowledge of their windings could be preserved only by constant use, the principal entrances alone remained accessible; and even these were gradually neglected and blocked up by rubbish, with the exception of two or three, which were still resorted to, and decorated afresh from time to time. In the sixteenth century, the whole range of catacombs

* A Description of the Primitive Church of Rome Illustrated by its Sepulchral Remains. By CHARLES MAITLAND, M.D.