we were all too tired, to go round to the usual ascent on the other side; so we urged our animals up the steep and pathless rocks, here and there overgrown with brushwood, thorns, and thistles, fit only to be traversed by goats and conies.
The monks, who had been our guests on the way, now acted as our guides and hosts, for they were on convent ground. They warned us to grasp the manes of our tired steeds firmly, as they mounted the steep ledges; and I now found the disadvantage of being on a pony without a mane. After about ten minutes difficult riding, we reached a cultivated garden, on a plateau, in front of the large, well-built convent. Frère Charles, an old friend of my brother, came out to meet and welcome us, and kissed him and the two monks again and again.
We were about six hundred feet above the plain, with a magnificent scene before us. The sun was just going down, and the Great Sea was flooded with crimson light. The bay of Akka and the plain surrounded by the hills of Galilee were on our right. The ruins of an ancient port and fortress could be seen on the level strip of land below us; and at about a mile to the right of it stood the little town of Hâifa—very interesting to me, for it was there I was to make a home with my brother, at Her Britannic Majesty's Vice-Consulate.
We spent a pleasant evening with the good monks. It was Friday; they did not let us fast, but sat by us, in pleasant chat, while we enjoyed fish, flesh, and fowl from their excellent cuisine. After dinner we went to the divan or drawing-room, and I looked through the convent album, which is quite a polyglot, containing the autographs of many great and celebrated characters—testimonies to the kindness and hospitality,always met with here.
Three or four examples of misplaced zeal and intolerance have called forth the satire, wit, and displeasure of less prejudiced pilgrims. Frère Charles pointed out to me a few pages crossed, recrossed, and interlined by indignant
