everywhere; and these materials included contrasts the most extreme: then these diversities of scenery, so near at hand, must have made the deeper impression upon minds sensible of such impressions, inasmuch as this same land was bordered on every side by mountain ranges, or by the boundless table-land desert, eastward and southward; and by the Great Sea in front. Palestine was as a picture of many and bright colours, set in a broad and dull frame.
In other lands, as in a few spots in England and at rare moments—in Greece, and its islands, often—in Italy, at a few points, and in many of the Paradisaical islets of the Eastern Ocean, and of the Pacific, there may be seen that which the eye rests upon with so much pleasure in a sultry summer's day—the deep blue or purple of the sleeping ocean, serving to give brighter splendour to a foreground of luxurious foliage, and of gay flowers. Trees, shrubs, festooning climbers—garden, and wild flowers, then most recommend themselves to the painter's eye when the background is of that deep colour—the like to which there is nothing on earth—the purple of a profound sea, shone upon by a fervent sun, under a cloudless sky. But then in none of those countries or islands do splendid landscapes of this order present themselves in contrast with stony deserts, dismal as the land of death! But in Palestine—such as it was of old—the soft graces of a rural scene—the vine-covered slopes—the plains, brilliant with flowers, the wooded glens and knolls
