The Rabbis have also to establish the credit of their own tradition against that of the Arabs who at this time shew Eve's grave near Jeddah;—about three days journey east from that place, according to Bruce. He says, it is covered with green sods, and about fifty yards in length. The Cashmerian traveller Abdulkurreem who visited it in 1742, says that it measured an hundred and ninety-seven of his footsteps, which would make the mother of mankind much taller than Bruce's measurement. He likens it to a flower-bed; on the middle of the grave there was then a small dome, and the ends of it were enclosed with wooden pales. Burckhardt did not visit it; he was told that it was about two miles only, northward of the town, and that it was a rude structure of stone, some four feet in length, two or three in height and as many in breadth, thus resembling the tomb of Noah, which is shewn in the valley of Bekaa, in Syria. Thus widely do these modern travellers, on any one of whom reasonable reliance might have been placed, differ in the account of the same thing. CHAPTER CCXXXV. THE SHORTEST AND PLEASANTEST WAY FROM DONCASTER TO JEDDAH, WITH MANY MORE, TOO LONG. _Πόνος πόνῳ πόνον φέρει Πᾶ πᾶ γὰρ οὐκ ἔβαν ἐγώ._ SOPHOCLES. We have got from the West Riding of Yorkshire, to the Eastern shore of the Red Sea, without the assistance of mail-coach, steam-packet, or air-balloon, the magical carpet, the wishing-cap, the shoes of swiftness, or the seven-leagued boots. From Mr. Bacon's vicarage we have got to Eve's grave, not _per saltum_, by any sudden, or violent transition; but by following the stream of thought. We shall get back in the same easy manner to that vicarage, and to the quiet churchyard wherein the remains of one of the sweetest and for the few latter years of her short life, one of the happiest of Eve's daughters, were deposited in sure and certain hope. If you are in the mood for a Chapter upon Churchyards, go reader to those which Caroline Bowles has written;—you will find in them every thing that can touch the heart, every thing that can sanctify the affections, unalloyed by anything that can offend a pure taste and a masculine judgement. But before we find our way back we must tarry awhile among the tombs, and converse with the fablers of old. A young and lovely Frenchwoman after visiting the _Columbarium_ near the Villa Albani, expressed her feeling strongly upon our custom of interring the dead, as compared with the non-burial of the ancients, _usage odieux_, said she, _qui rend la mort horrible! Si les anciens en avaient moins d'effroi, c'est que la coutume de brûler les corps dérobait au trépas tout ce qu'il a de hideux. Qu'il était consolant et doux de pouvoir pleurer sur des cendres chéries! Qu'il est épouvantable et déchirant aujourd'hui de penser que celui qu'on a tant aimé n'offre plus qu'une image affreuse et décharnée dont on ne pourrait supporter la vue._