A Ride Across Palestine | Page 8

altar up to the top of the dark steps by which the descent is made.
It must be remembered that Eastern worshippers are not like the
churchgoers of London, or even of Rome or Cologne. They are wild
men of various nations and races,-- Maronites from Lebanon
Roumelians, Candiotes, Copts from Upper Egypt, Russians from the
Crimea, Armenians and Abyssinians. They savour strongly of Oriental
life and of Oriental dirt. They are clad in skins or hairy cloaks with
huge hoods. Their heads are shaved, and their faces covered with short,
grisly, fierce beards. They are silent mostly, looking out of their eyes
ferociously, as though murder were in their thoughts, and rapine. But
they never slouch, or cringe in their bodies, or shuffle in their gait.
Dirty, fierce-looking, uncouth, repellent as they are, there is always
about them a something of personal dignity which is not compatible
with an Englishman's ordinary hat and pantaloons.
As we were about to descend, preparing to make our way through the
crowd, Smith took hold of my arm. "That will never do, my dear
fellow," said I, "the job will be tough enough for a single file, but we
should never cut our way two and two. I'm broad-shouldered and will
go first." So I did, and gradually we worked our way into the body of
the chapel. How is it that Englishmen can push themselves anywhere?
These men were fierce-looking, and had murder and rapine, as I have
said, almost in their eyes. One would have supposed that they were not
lambs or doves, capable of being thrust here or there without anger on
their part; and they, too, were all anxious to descend and approach the
altar. Yet we did win our way through them, and apparently no man
was angry with us. I doubt, after all, whether a ferocious eye and a

strong smell and dirt are so efficacious in creating awe and obedience
in others, as an open brow and traces of soap and water. I know this, at
least,--that a 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. So much we do know,
though we are ignorant, and ever shall be so, of the site of His cross and
of the tomb. And then we descended on the eastern side of the hill,
passing through Bethany, the town of Lazarus and his sisters, and
turned our faces steadily towards the mountains of Moab.
Hitherto we had met no Bedouins, and I interrogated my dragoman
about them more than once; but he always told me that it did not
signify; we should meet them, he said, before any danger could arise.
"As for danger," said I, "I think more of this than I do of the Arabs,"

and I put my hand on my revolver. "But as they agreed to be here,