dirty Maronite would make very little progress, if he attempted to
shove his way unfairly through a crowd of Englishmen at the door of
a London theatre. We did shove unfairly, and we did make progress,
till we found ourselves in the centre of the dense crowd collected
in the body of the chapel.

Having got so far, our next object was to get out again. The place
was dark, mysterious, and full of strange odours; but darkness,
mystery, and strange odours soon lose their charms when men have
much work before them. Joseph had made a point of being allowed to
attend mass before the altar of the Virgin, but a very few minutes
sufficed for his prayers. So we again turned round and pushed our
way back again, Smith still following in my wake. The men who had
let us pass once let us pass again without opposition or show of
anger. To them the occasion was very holy. They were stretching
out their hands in every direction, with long tapers, in order that
they might obtain a spark of the sacred fire which was burning on
one of the altars. As we made our way out we passed many who, with
dumb motions, begged us to assist them in their object. And we did
assist them, getting lights for their tapers, handing them to and
fro, and using the authority with which we seemed to be invested.
But Smith, I observed, was much more courteous in this way to the
women than to the men, as I did not forget to remind him when we
were afterwards on our road together.

Remounting our horses we rode slowly up the winding ascent of the
Mount of Olives, turning round at the brow of the hill to look back
over Jerusalem. Sometimes I think that of all spots in the world
this one should be the spot most cherished in the memory of
Christians. It was there that He stood when He wept over the city.