their present forms." Hence their infinite variety. There is not one long chain, like the Pyrenees or the Apennines, of a general average height and form, but innumerable peaks, sharp and pointed, as if piercing the sky, while other summits are broad and dome-like, as if the very heavens might rest on the support of such "everlasting hills." And these mountains are unlike those of other countries in being more barren and desolate. I have seen mountains in all parts of the world, and have found in almost every case that they had some feature of beauty mingled with their ruggedness, which took away somewhat of their desolate character. However lofty their elevation, their ascent was gradual, extending over many miles, whereby they sloped down gently to the valleys below, and their lower sides were clothed with vegetation, which relieved their sterner aspect and softened their rugged grandeur. Not so here. The mountains of Sinai rise up abruptly from the plain, looking more like columns than pyramids; and as their substance is the hardest granite, which affords little support to vegetation, they have a bare, bald aspect, for which they are sometimes called the Alps unclothed.
Between these awful mountains, and winding round among them in countless turnings, are the wadies of which I have spoken — river beds, through which, in the time of rains and storms, there pour furious torrents, which as quickly pass away to the sea, leaving behind them only the traces of the ruin they have made. Of these wadies, one here obtains the most complete view. See how they wind and wind, turning hither and thither in endless confusion! Here then we have the complete anatomy of the Sinaitic Peninsula. One takes it in at a glance in its whole extent, from end to end, and from side to side. It is enclosed on the east and the west by
