cious a number of legends attached to this sacred site, such as that the entrance was so low that visitors had to crawl in, but that at the Feast of Tabernacles it enlarged of itself so that it could be entered on camel-back. From the large sums of money deposited on the grave the synagogue was kept in repair, orphans were endowed with marriage portions, and destitute disciples supported. R. Pethachia relates how he strewed gold and grains of gold upon the tomb, and if there were many like him the sepulchre of Ezekiel must indeed have been richly endowed.

From this point it is not easy to follow our author's route, as many of the populous places mentioned by him have now disappeared. He went to Bassora, and thence up the river.

By a zigzag route, unquestionably prompted by commercial reasons, our author now proceeded to Bagdad. That city was then held in veneration by the Jews, like Rome by the Catholics, as the seat of their ruler, a reputed descendant from the house of David, known as the Prince of the Captivity. After the destruction of Jerusalem the Jews had gathered themselves together under the control of these princes for all purposes of jurisdiction, while acknowledging the supremacy of their conquerors. These on their part confirmed them in their office, the Khalifs in nowise restricted the princes' authority over their people, their persons were respected by Mahommedans as well as Jews, and there were times when, owing to the increasing weakness of the Khalifate, the Hebrew princes rose into some degree of political importance. The prince reigning at the time of Rabbi Benjamin's visit was one of the last to hold this dignity, Daniel Ben Chisdai, under whom the Jewish university flourished with a

splendour unknown for genera

tions.

were

Passing to Babylon, the traveller was shown the ruins of Nebuchadnezzar, which could not be entered for fear of serpents and scorpions, the fiery furnace into which Shadrach, Meshack, and Abednego cast, and the tower of Babel, whence he enjoyed a view of twenty miles in circuit. The reputed tomb of Ezra was also visited. This monument is still in existence, and mentioned by modern travellers. As usual, Rabbi Benjamin's account is hald, but the sepulchre must have been very beautiful, if we may trust later visitors, being all inlaid with turquoise-blue tiles. The ruins of Susa were probably his next halting place; and here he mentions the sepulchre of Daniel, concerning whose remains a great controversy had recently been waged. The city was divided into two parts by a river-on one side lay the markets and the mercantile portion, the other was destitute of traffic; consequently the Jews on the one side were richer than those of the other. These latter ascribed their poverty to the circumstance that they were not in possession of Daniel's ashes, and demanded his coffin for their side of the city. The others were unwilling to part with their precious relic, a feud arose, and bloody warfare was carried on between the two parties, until, wearied out, they came to a compromise that the coffin should be deposited alternately on either side. The arrangement was adhered to faithfully, and every year the coffin was transferred with great honour, under the escort of the whole Jewish and Mahommedan population. It happened, however, that the Sultan Sing'as came to Susa during such a procession; and, deeming it derogatory to the honour of Daniel thus constantly to disturb the repose of his bones,

he commanded that the coffin should be fixed at an equal distance from either side, and be suspended from the middle of the bridge by iron chains. He also commanded that in honour of Daniel no one should fish in the river one mile each side the coffin. But even the coffin of Daniel does not appear to have shielded the Jews. R. Benjamin estimates them at 7000; R. Pethachia only found two, and these were dyers.

He then passes into a district he calls Amaria, where he found a large number of Jews, who claimed to be descendants of those carried into captivity by Shalmaneser. Some of these paid tribute in coin to the Kings of Persia, others were in league with the Assassins, and others seem to have been little better than robber hordes. Among these people arose the famous impostor David Alroy, whose romantic career has been embodied in an historical novel of more than common inaccuracy by Lord Beaconsfield. R. Benjamin gives a detailed account of the strange vicissitudes of this young man, who claimed to be the Messiah, and was largely acknowledged as such, owing to his reputed miraclesmiracles credited by R. Benjamin. Alroy was well versed in cabalistic lore, and, according to the Rabbis, marvels may be performed by such as are deeply read therein, and know the true name of Jehovah. Talmud ascribes the miracles of Jesus to his knowledge of the mysteries.

The

Hamadan, the supposed site of Ecbatana, was then a considerable commercial place, and hence duly visited by R. Benjamin, as well as the traditionary tombs of Esther and Mordecai. From here he passed to Ispahan, where there was an important Jewish colony and lively trade; and thence, according to him (but here there must be some

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mistake) in eleven days to Khiva, also a place of extensive commerce. He comments on the country as very flat. Samarcand, a city of considerable magnitude," is next named; and, after a four days' journey, the province of Tibet, "in the forest of which country that beast is found which yields the musk," a remark that doubtless reveals the reason for our traveller's visit to these parts.

The mountainous regions bordering the Caspian were next visited, and then R. Benjamin once more bent his way towards the south. He visited the island of Kish, in those days the great emporium for the exchange of Indian produce for that of Central Asia and Africa. He names the chief articles of exchange, and that the inhabitants of the island lived by their gains in their capacity of brokers. They were evidently sprung from an enterprising stock, since tradition asserts that the island takes its name from a man called Keis, who made his fortune by a cat much after the manner of Whittington. Pearl fishery was also already a lucrative pursuit. R. Benjamin holds the views as to the origin of pearls that were common to his time, namely, that they were formed by crystallised drops of rain. R. Benjamin now proceeds to narrate what he has evidently only heard concerning nations farther east. He speaks of the country of the sunworshippers (Orissa?) of the island of Khandy (Ceylon), where there lived many influential Jews, and is the first European to mention China. Of the passage thither he gives a marvellous account, which tells how the sea is rough, and vessels are often lost, how the passengers sew themselves into bullock hides, and a griffin, mistaking them for cattle, darts down upon them and bears them off to dry land, where the passengers,

armed with knives, rip open the hide and kill their rescuer. Marco Polo tells the same fable. It is clear that in former times Sinbad's roc was deemed a reality.

No such myths creep in when R. Benjamin confines himself to personal experience. He now passed into Egypt, and speaks of the Nile inundations, of the caravans exposed to the danger of being buried in the sand, of the pyramids "constructed by witchcraft," of Alexandria, its Aristotelean schools, its lighthouse, its harbour, and its lively commerce with Europe. Here he must have spent some time visiting the Sinaitic peninsula and other neighbouring tracts, and then passed

over to Sicily, a passage of twenty days to Messina.

From this point the Itinerary becomes а mere catalogue of names; probably the detailed account was lost. Our author traversed the length of Italy, to the foot of Mont Cenis, crossed this, passed into Germany, and visited all its principal cities. He also travelled into Bohemia, Poland, and France; but unfortunately no further interesting information can be cited. The Itinerary ends, as is but due, with a pious prayer that the Lord will turn the captivity of the Hebrews, and have passion on them and gather them back from all the ends of the earth whither they have been scattered.

com

PROFESSOR OWEN'S GEESE. WE have historical evidence on the saving of the Capitol by the watchfulness of geese. The Professor told me once that, as he was often detained in London, it was sometimes twelve or one o'clock before he reached his house at Sheen; and he remarked that a gander always gave notice of his approach before his dogs. He added that geese, when not secured under cover at night, will always take their rest by the side of water, which is usually to be found where they are kept, so that on the least alarm they would dash into an element in which they would be safe from ordinary enemies.

He told me, at the same time, of a huge tortoise having been sent from the Cape to the late Prince Consort, who sent for the Professor on the occasion, and the latter told him that the royal children were greatly alarmed for the safety of the animal when the Professor stood upon its back.

Mr. W. S. Lindsay (late M.P.) had two immense specimens of the animal, the shell of one of which, beautifully polished, stood in his hall at Shepperton Manor. Mrs. Lindsay told me that one of them had carried two men across their lawn. The other was alive at the time of my visit; but, being of vagrant habits, did not confine himself to the grounds, and was,

doubtless, at that time, indulging in a stroll through the village.

JUDGE WILLIAMS.

The late Judge Williams, Welshman, familiarly known as "Johnny Williams," was a man of no ordinary talent, and in good repute as a lawyer. He had once a clerk, who, the judge found on going to chambers one morning, had hanged himself behind the door. The alleged cause of the act was domestic infelicity. It happened that the clerk who succeeded the unfortunate man in his office asked leave to go out of town on a matter of moment. "It is very inconvenient," said the judge; "and, besides, you have been with me but a few weeks. Is your business in the country of so very pressing a nature ?" Why, yes, my lord," was the reply, "I am going to be married." "O, then," was the rejoinder, "go, by all means; but mind, when you came back, don't hang yourself behind my door; because it is extremely unpleasant to come to chambers and find persons hanging behind one's door."

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The judge was fond of a horse, and, of course, of horse exercise. He usually rode out early in the morning; and on one occasion, while at his residence (near Newmarket, we believe), be was overtaken on the heath by a butcher's boy, who, by reason of the judge's

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shabby attire, took him to be anything but what he was, and said, "I'll trot you to the next public-house for a quartern of gin." Done," said the judge, and off they started. The butcher arrived first at the winning-post, when the loser called for the liquor and paid for it. The butcher politely offered him the first drain, which the Judge as courteously declined, pleading that he did not usually take his glass so early, and bade the butcher good morning.

HENRY PHILLIPS.

Sir Henry Bishop, in delivering a lecture at a Literary and Scientific Institution, in the neighbourhood of London, mentioned the circumstance of a young man presenting himself to the manager of a theatre, to whom he was а stranger, and requesting to be assigned a part in an opera which was then in preparation. The importunity of the aspirant prevailed, and a part was allotted to him. His rehearsal of the air was anything but perfect, and the execution of it afterwards on the stage was so unsatisfactory that the engagement terminated with the first night of performance. The unsuccessful tyro was the great Henry Phillips. Sir Henry Bishop mentioned a curious fact with reference to his own beautiful glee of "The Chough and Crow." He had had great difficulty, he said, in prevailing on a manager to admit it into an opera, that functionary maintaining that the piece did not require the addition, and would be better without it.

FEMALE INTREPIDITY.

This instance occurred within my own circle of acquaintance. A housemaid in one of the western squares, hearing an unusual noise in one of the front rooms on the

ground-floor, rushed upstairs from the kitchen and found a thief in the act of pocketing some forks and spoons which had been laid for breakfast. She instantly seized him, and compelled him to resign his booty to the last spoon. Her master-my personal friend-in commending her for her courage, asked her why she had not called to her assistance some workmen who were engaged in painting the outside of the house. Lord, sir," was the reply, "I never thought of that!'

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ROBERT LISTON.

The funeral of this every way remarkable man was one of the most touching scenes ever witnessed. The funeral was a public one; the mourners-and they were mourners indeed-were chiefly the medical students of University College Hospital. The place of interment was the Highgate Cemetery. Among the more distinguished of the followers was Dr. Anthony Todd Thomson, who wept like a child, while from the lips of many of the younger mourners the half-choked exclamation of "Poor Bobby!" burst with a pathos which none but those who heard it could conceive. Robert Liston had a marvellous facility of imparting instruction to his pupils. His lectures partook more of the character of

conversations than of scientific disanecdotes, of which his vast procourses, and were interspersed with fessional experience had provided him with a rich store.

Abrupt and odd as was his general manner, he endeared himself to his pupils by his eagerness on all occasions to promote the interests of those whom he thought deserving among them. He was an early riser, and would walk to Hampstead in all weathers, always