way, we had to station a stout Arab as a guard at the entrance, to prevent the access of the curious public, whose faces appeared through the aperture eagerly watching the process of our toilet. Strolling out afterwards through the village, the noise of a mill several times struck my ear, and in one house I ventured to cross the threshold and observe the well-known process of grinding the corn. Two women were seated on the floor with a low cylindrical mill-stone between them, and they were bending over, putting in the corn at an aperture in the top part of their implement, and crushing it between the upper and lower stones by turning the former by means of a handle attached to it. As they leaned over the mill, chattering and laughing together, the full aptness and strength of our Lord's observation struck me forcibly, "Two women shall be grinding at the mill, the one shall be taken and the other left." Early next morning we were again on the road, and soon arrived at some ruinous heaps, which are supposed by Lord Nugent and Mr. Veitch to be the site of ancient Bethel. I was not, however, at that time sufficiently acquainted with the arguments in favour of it to feel the full interest of such a place, the

*Lands Classical and Sacred.

altar and shrine both of Jehovah and Baal. A little further a curious cavern, low but supported by pillars, contains a reservoir and spring of clear water; although it is vaulted and propped up, yet the roof and columns appear to be of the natural rock, wrought into that state by the action of the water only. This was close against the village of Beer, through which we then passed; it consisted of some twenty houses, with a ruined church seemingly of the time of the crusaders. But our anxiety to catch sight of Jerusalem now outweighed every other feeling, and we quickened the paces of our horses, though the road was wofully stony and often dangerous. Troops of gaily-dressed pilgrims were now to be seen on the great northern track (our own road), eagerly pressing forward to, or triumphantly leaving the Holy City. There were Jews going up to the Passover, and Greeks and Latins to their Easter, which this year fell at the same time. The returning pilgrims were decorated with beads, and necklaces, and shells, staves from the Jordan, and vials of blown glass from Hebron stuck fantastically in their turbans. The country began to look more barren than ever, round hill succeeded round hill; the heat was very great, yet the feeling that each ridge was the last, and must conceal the Holy City, still

urged us on. It became a race. Well, then, at length we mount a rocky hill, and, lo! before us, glittering in the sun, the line of wall thrown into dark shadow, the domes and minarets of Omar and the Holy Sepulchre, and the embattled tower of Hippicus, standing clear out in the sunlight, backed by the blue vapoury mountains of Moab, lay that which has the name of old Jerusalem, and had been for years an image in my dreams. Glorious things are spoken of thee, city of God! and if thus trodden down, thy walls, and towers, and shrines caused us to cry with one consent, "How beautiful," how great the glory of thine ancient fame, and palacecovered mountain, must have been, the mighty temple of the everlasting God, and the well-sited Zion, the joy of the whole earth! Here we halt and gaze upon the city, a scene familiar to the mind, yet novel in its many accessories; and round us flock the bands of coming pilgrims, and stand, and kneel, and weep, and laugh for joy, as each one's temper shows his thankfulness. And women who have toiled, may-be, for many a day through heat, and fear, and poverty, to come and see Jerusalem and die, here, in the prospect of their journey's end, fall prostrate and lie groaning on the ground, and rise to take again an eager glance, as though they feared it were indeed a

dream, and not the sacred object of their journey, the city of the Lord of Hosts, Jerusalem. And here, too, on a hill like this, stood Richard, the crusading king of England, the man of lion heart and stalwart hand, he stood, and would not look. "Ah land!" said the disappointed monarch with tears, "I pray thee that I may never see thy holy city of Jerusalem since things thus happen, and since I cannot take it from the hands of thine enemies." And so, with hands upraised and eyes averted, did Cœur de Lion turn and quit the sight which gave him shame. *

In a short time we had descended into the intervening valley, passed on the left the excavated sepulchres called the tombs of the kings, and in three hours and a half from the time we started from Mai Haroba, Yussuf fired off his pistols as a "feu de joie," and we entered Jerusalem by the Damascus Gate.

* Joinville, Mémoires de St. Louis.

CHAP. VI.

JERUSALEM.

ALTHOUGH I had long trodden ground sanctified by history, and by the holy persons whom it had borne, though Tiberias had recalled to me vividly the events of our Lord and Master's ministry, and Nazareth had lent a light to illustrate the period of his mysterious youth and boyhood; it was impossible to enter Jerusalem, the scene of so many of his mighty works, of his last dread passion, and his glorious victory over death, without sensations of awe mixed with a feeling of thankfulness. There was awe in the remembrance how from yonder Olivet descended once amid a people's thundering welcome, Jesus the Son of David; awe in the thought, that on these impending hills the echoes of Hosanna! had scarce died away when they were changed into cries of "Crucify him;" awe in the thought of that forsaken cry, that horrid gloom, that awful quaking of the earth. There was glad thankfulness too; the joy of a traveller arrived at last at his toilsome journey's bourne, such joy