rode split in two, and the seat must have been a torture; but he bore it like a martyr, never flinching.  But camel-stock had so far depreciated, and donkeys gone up, that I was able to try as much as I liked of camel-riding now and then, at the same time obliging a friend by the use of my donkey meanwhile.  Riding a camel at a walk is the same sort of thing as riding a very hard-trotting horse without stirrups, and with no chance to grasp the animal fairly to hold your seat.  When the camel trots, you may imagine yourself on a treadmill.

The journey to the forest, about ten miles, was safely accomplished.  We found the petrifactions duly wonderful.  An excellent luncheon was laid out, after which we had an hour and a half of very entertaining conversation, in which Mr. Buckle and Rev. Mr. S. held the leading parts,—­all around us as desolate and silent as one could imagine.  It was interesting to observe the manner in which Buckle estimated eminent names, grouping them in some instances by threes, a favorite conceit with him.  John Stuart Mill, of all living men, he considers as possessing the greatest mind in the world.  Aristotle, Newton, and Shakspeare are the greatest the world has produced in past times.  Homer, Dante, and Shakspeare are the only three great poets.  Johnson, Gibbon, and Parr are the three writers who have done the greatest harm to the English language.  Of Hallam he has a strong admiration.  He spoke of Sydney Smith as the greatest English wit, and of Selwyn as next to him, and described Macaulay’s memory as unequalled in conversation.

For the return-trip, the donkeys generally were preferred.  Miss B., with spirit, tried camel-riding for a while, and so did Master F. We stopped to look at the tombs of the Caliphs, and reached the hotel at nightfall, somewhat fatigued, but satisfied with the day’s expedition.

February 16th. The morning was gratefully devoted to rest.  In the afternoon, attended service at the Mission, where Rev. Mr. S. preached an interesting discourse from John xv. 1-4.  On the way home met Mr. Buckle, who came in, and was persuaded to stay to dinner.  In speaking of religion, he said that there is no doctrine or truth in Christianity that had not been announced before, but that Christianity is by far the noblest religion in existence.  The chief point of its superiority is the prominence it gives to the humane and philanthropic element; and in giving this prominence lies its originality.  He believes in a Great First Cause, but does not arrive at his belief by any process of reasoning satisfactory to himself.  Paley’s argument, from the evidence of design, he regards as futile:  if the beauty of this world indicates a creating cause, the beauty of that great cause would suggest another, and so on.  He believes in a future state, and declared most impressively that life would be insupportable to him, if he thought he were forever to be separated from one person,—­alluding, it is probable, to his mother, to whose memory he dedicates the second volume of his book.[C] He has no doubt that in the future state we shall recognize one another; whether we shall have the same bodies he has no opinion, although he regards matter as indestructible.  He declares himself unable to form any judgment as to the mode of future existence.  Religion, he says, is on the increase in the world, but theology is declining.