the morning in the vineyards, or on the stairs cut in the rock on the hill-side, going down into the garden of nuts, to see the fruits of the valley—to see whether the vine flourished and the pomegranate budded; and to this day, at every marriage festival in the country, their wild, picturesque, and passionate love-songs are echoed in a language very nearly allied to their own. On this subject I hope, on some future occasion, to speak more fully, in some notes on the Life and Times of Solomon, and his Song of Songs.
We lingered a long time among the ruins. I picked up a handful of tesseræ, and then went down to the valley. We found traces here and there of a rocky staircase, the joint work of nature and art. At the base of the hill wild pomegranates and the arbutus grew. Just as we were mounting I saw on the top of a seemingly-inaccessible heap of rocks and hewed stones a very fine honeysuckle. Mr. W. determined to gather it for us. He leaped across the deep dry bed of the Winter torrent, and climbed over the bushes and rocks, and soon returned in triumph with such a large, bright trophy of pink hollyhocks, at least five feet high, and long, trailing branches of the honeysuckle, that it frightened all the horses as he approached. We rode on, laden with flowers. The honeysuckle smelled very sweet; its blossoms were large, and of a pale-yellow color, shaded with white and pink.
We made our way quickly to Urtâs, and after dinner we sat for a short time under the fig-tree. The peasants came down from the ancient village above to look at us, and we took the opportunity of putting some of them into our sketch-books. Then we mounted, and had a delightful ride back to Jerusalem. It was long past sunset when we reached the gates, but the keeper of the key had been detained to admit us.
Thus the Spring-time passed pleasantly. Day after day my attention and my interest had been excited by scenes and incidents which vividly illustrated the treasured records
