tribes of Israel under
Joshua; they there consulted upon the means of conquering the land
of Canaan.

The whole valley is sufficiently fertile; even the hills are in some
instances covered to their summits with olive, fig, lemon, and
orange trees. Some little brooks, clear as crystal, bubble through
the beautiful plain. We were frequently compelled to ride through
the water; but all the streams are at this season of the year so
shallow, that our horses' hoofs were scarcely covered.

After gaining the summit of the neighbouring hill, we turned round
with regret to look our last on this valley; seldom has it been my
lot to behold a more charming picture of blooming vegetation.

Two hours more brought us to Sebasta, the ancient Samaria, which
also lies on a lovely hill, though for beauty of situation it is not
to be compared with Nablus. Sebasta is a wretched village. The
ruins of the convent built on the place where St. John the Baptist
was beheaded were here pointed out to us; but even of the ruins
there are few traces left.

Two hours later we reached Djenin, and had now entered the confines
of Galilee. Though this province, perhaps, no longer smiles with
the rich produce it displayed in the days of old, it still affords a
strong contrast to Judaea. Here we again find hedges of the Indian
fig-tree, besides palms and large expanses of field; but for flowers
and meadows we still search in vain.

The costume of the Samaritan and Galilean women appears as
monotonous as it is poor and dirty. They wear only a long dark-blue
gown, and the only difference to be observed in their dress is that
some muffle their faces and others do not. It would be no loss if
all wore veils; for so few pretty women and girls are to be
discovered, that they might be searched for, like the honest man of
Diogenes, with a lantern. The women have all an ugly brown
complexion, their hair is matted, and their busts lack the rounded
fullness of the Turkish women. They have a custom of ornamenting
both sides of the head, from the crown to the chin, with a row of
silver coins; and those women who do not muffle their faces usually
wear as head-dress a handkerchief of blue linen.

Djenin is a dirty little town, which we only entered in consequence
of having been told that we should behold the place where Queen
Jezebel fell from the window and was devoured by dogs. Both window
and palace have almost vanished; but dogs, who look even now as